


Counterparts

by sodium_amytal



Category: Rush (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Growth, Humor, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodium_amytal/pseuds/sodium_amytal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. 1993. Fed up with his dead-end job and bitter divorce, Alex abandons his life in Toronto and makes a fresh start in Ottawa. There he meets Geddy, a retired baseball all-star, who is sexy and witty and just damaged enough to pique Alex’s interest. As Alex builds his new life, he tries desperately to find a place in Geddy’s own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Polarize Me

**Author's Note:**

> Illustrations: http://farewelltokings.tumblr.com/post/150078676546

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

This, in fact, is probably the running mantra of Alex's life. It will be etched on his tombstone, most likely a direct quotation uttered moments before his untimely demise.

Many—or perhaps all—of Alex's off-the-cuff decisions are reckless and stupid. He knows this, yet he still spent the last six hours packing up as much as his car could carry and driving east until the sky turned midnight blue.

It's ten o'clock just outside the heart of Ottawa. Alex sits in a neighborhood drinking hole off the main highway. The windows glow with neon signs. Everything looks worn, including most of the patrons, who seem to be about Alex's age. "Walking in Memphis" plays on the jukebox; Alex wishes he were in Memphis. Christ, he's still in the same time zone as Toronto. Why didn't he think to head west, put some more distance between himself and his old life?

Alex orders his second drink of the night. The bartender sports a pair of faded jeans, a Harley-Davidson t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and a black bandana wrapped around his head. His arms are huge, like he wrestles bears in his spare time. "Just passing through? I've never seen you around before."

"Is Ottawa that small?"

The bartender's tired eyes grow even wearier. "I own this place, so I'm familiar with pretty much everyone who stops in. Most of my customers are regulars."

Fair enough.

The foamy head of beer sloshes over the rim of the glass as the bartender slides it in front of Alex. "I'm not really sure where I'm going," Alex admits. "Or what I'm doing... besides having a drink in a bar that's about four hours away from my house."

It's a slow night, so the bartender doesn't really have a choice but to elicit more of Alex's life story. "Okay, I'll bite. What brought you here?"

"My car." Alex grins.

The bartender struggles to keep his expression flat, as though he doesn't want to give Alex the satisfaction of a smirk.

"And possibly a mid-life crisis? I'm not really sure."

Alex loses his train of thought when the front door swings open, because it's loud and creaky. He swivels on his barstool, glancing over his shoulder, and is mesmerized by the sight of the man walking toward him.

There are a multitude of reasons for Alex's speechlessness. One, the guy is tall and skinny with long, perfect legs. His dark jeans might as well be painted on. His hair is dark brown and tied back, its length reaching his shoulders. Alex appreciates legs and asses more than the average, chest-obsessed male, and Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome has already met most of the requirements on Alex's boner checklist.

Second, something about his face is familiar. His features are a unique cluster, and Alex recognizes that goddamn nose, but he can't pinpoint from where.

Third, he's wearing the most pretentious sunglasses Alex has ever seen on a real person. Sunglasses inside a dark bar at night—can you say "douchebag"? Maybe he's famous and doesn't want to be recognized. Nah, probably just a douche.

He sits at the bar beside Alex, leaving a vacant seat between them. "Hey, Pratt," he says to the bartender, and Pratt—no way is that his real name—is already preparing a drink and sliding it to him. "Surprised to see you working tonight."

"Well, Peter's on medical leave since this morning, so here I am. He said he tripped over his dog in the middle of the night."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Hottie McHotface says, clearly using 'saddest' as a euphemism for 'pathetic.'

"Isn't it?"

"'Pratt'?" Alex still isn't over that. "Y'know, over in England that means—"

"I know. That's the joke." His expression communicates that he hates the joke and dies a little inside every time someone utters the nickname. "Just call me Neil. Like a real person."

"Are you suggesting he's a figment of my imagination?" Alex asks, jerking a thumb in the direction of the handsome stranger.

"No, I'm real," Mr. Handsome says. "Or at least as real as any of us are."

Neil sighs. "Have you been smoking again?"

Mr. Gorgeous huffs an indignant laugh. "No," he says, chuckling around the word, and, yep, he's definitely stoned.

And another tick on Alex's boner checklist: an appreciation for marijuana.

If this guy has any sexual or romantic interest in dudes, Alex won't hesitate to ask him out. He's living dangerously today.

"Setting a great example for the kids, I see," Neil says with a teasing lilt.

Cuteface McHandsome downs the shot in his glass. "Anything short of unfucking my life won't get them to respect me. What's a joint gonna do?"

Alex glances at the man's hands. No ring. Not even a tan line where a wedding band might have been.

"You're a teacher?" Alex wonders, trying to figure out if he has a chance with this guy or not.

The handsome stranger laughs a rich, throaty sound. "No way. Just a beleaguered, divorced father."

"Join the club," Alex says. I'm just like you, his voice pleads. Let's be friends.

"How do you deal with it?"

"Which part?"

"Having kids who hate you."

His brutal honesty takes Alex off-guard. "Oh, no, I'm not—I don't have kids. By 'club' I meant the association of beleaguered divorcees." This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have opened his mouth. His attempt to build camaraderie has just blown up in his face.

Handsome Hottie motions to his glass for a refill, and Neil obliges. He downs it immediately and turns on his stool to face Alex. "And how long have you been a member?"

Alex checks his watch. "Um, eight hours? Give or take."

"I should be welcoming you to the club, then." Is he flirting? That tone of voice definitely sounds like he's flirting. He tips his glass towards Neil again, then once it's refilled clinks it against Alex's beer mug in a toast. "It's all downhill from here."

This dude must be a blast at parties.

"Jeez, really? I kinda felt like it was going downhill already. 'S'why I got divorced in the first place," Alex says.

"That's what I thought, too. But at least I was happy when I was married. Some of the time."

"No one's happy all the time. You gotta focus on the little things. Like good beer." Alex taps his glass. "Or good weed. How long have you been divorced?"

"Five years."

"Oh... Well, hey, maybe it's time to take responsibility for your own happiness and do something crazy and exciting! Or don't, because I'm just a stranger in a bar who might be a little drunk. I don't even live here!" Alex laughs. "My license still says Toronto!"

Hottie lifts an eyebrow. "Are you taking an impromptu road trip to commemorate your newfound bachelorhood?"

"How'd you know?"

"I did the same thing when I got divorced. I used to live in Montreal." He says something in French that Alex doesn't understand but finds incredibly hot.

Alex must be making his doofy, aroused face, because Mr. Sexy chuckles and introduces himself. "I'm Geddy."

"Alex."

"Now we're not strangers anymore."

Alex shakes himself back to planet Earth, because he might actually be in the presence of a celebrity. "Are you the baseball player? Or is Geddy a really common name in Montreal?"

"No, you're right," Geddy says. "I used to pitch for the Expos."

Geddy is not only attractive but modest too, because even a casual baseball fan knows that Geddy Lee was the star closing pitcher of the Montreal Expos from 1977 to 1988. Even after throwing out his arm in a 1982 game against the Red Sox, he was still nearly unstoppable. Six years later, he retired in apropos of nothing. No injuries, no decrease in performance, nothing to explain why an ace pitcher would permanently step off the mound.

And now here he is, a regular in this run-down bar off the Trans-Canada Highway in Ottawa.

"I thought you looked familiar," Alex says.

"I'm easy to recognize."

"And wearing sunglasses indoors is kind of an attention-getter."

Geddy does that eyebrow thing again. How the hell does he do that without altering anything else on his face?

"But if that's what you were going for, great job! I noticed you right away."

"So where are you headed on this road trip? Or is this your final destination?"

"I don't know. My plan was to just keep driving and settle somewhere, make a new life," Alex says. "But now that I'm hearing those words come out of my mouth, it sounds a little crazy. Okay, a lot crazy. Maybe this was a terrible idea."

Neil moves over to them to refill Geddy's glass. "If you plan on sticking around, I'm in the market for another bartender," he tells Alex. "It's probably not what you were—"

"Really? That sounds incredible! I tended bar for three years back home. Best job I ever had."

Geddy looks surprised behind his glasses. "Wow, what other jobs did you have?"

"Just that and being a middleman at a company where I'm still not really sure what we did. I know I got yelled at a lot though, 'cause everything's your fault when you're a middleman."

"That sounds awful."

Alex shrugs. "My wife—now ex-wife—wanted me to have a 'respectable' job. I hated it. I always wanted to be a chef. Or at least own my own restaurant."

"Well," Neil says, "depending on your performance I could make you part owner in a couple years."

"I'm a little drunk, so I can't tell if you're screwing with me."

Neil chuckles. "I didn't buy a bar so I could serve other people drinks. You'd be doing me a favor, and you're experienced." He holds a hand up to stave off any protest. "I know, you're just passing through." He moves to the other side of the bar before Alex can argue.

"Wow, I've only been in Ottawa about"—Alex checks his watch—"half an hour and I'm already getting compelling reasons to stay."

"Most people call this a sign," Geddy says.

"I dunno. I mean, I thought driving to who-knows-where and starting over would be a good idea, but I'm second-guessing, so maybe I shouldn't make spur-of-the-moment decisions. I'll sleep on it. Maybe I'll be less of a reckless decision-maker in the morning."

"Or you could be more reckless."

"Don't say that! That's horrible," Alex says, grinning.

"So all your talk about doing something crazy and exciting and you're already getting cold feet?" Geddy swallows down his shot and gives Alex a smirky look. "Why should I listen to you if you can't even follow your own advice?"

"Because my voice is very soothing. I've been told many times I have a great voice for radio. Or was it 'face'?"

Geddy snickers, and Alex is already smitten. He wants to see Geddy again. Even after only a few minutes of talking to him, Alex can tell they have the potential to become best friends. All he'd have to do is stay here in Ottawa and take the job Neil offered. A small price to pay for a new life.

He spends the next hour talking and drinking with Geddy until Neil cuts him off for their own good. "Congrats," Neil says to Geddy with a mischievous smile, "you didn't hit your limit this time."

Geddy makes an angry, squinty face behind his glasses that must be seen to be believed. He spins on his barstool and looks at Alex. "Why don't I drive you home?"

"Okay, but it's a long drive!" Alex laughs, caught in the cusp of drunkenness where you know you're making an ass of yourself but can't seem to stop.

Geddy's eyebrows and mouth area go all scrunchy. "You know what I mean. If you wanna sleep on your decision to stay, you're gonna need a bed."

The extra pounds Alex has packed on over the years have ensured it's been a while since someone's flirted with him, but years of watching television has taught him sharing a bed with an attractive person usually ends with making out or sex. But he's also drunk, so it's possible Geddy isn't suggesting they share a bed. Maybe he has a guest bedroom where Alex can stay. Or he's planning on dropping Alex at the nearest fleabag motel.

He's probably grossly misread this situation.

"Come on," Geddy says, dropping money on the counter and sliding off his barstool.

Alex would be an idiot not to follow him.

They step out into the cool night air. It's quiet outside, save for the muffled thump of music coming from inside the bar and the whoosh of cars rolling by on the road. Alex manages to unlock the trunk of his car on his third try and pulls out a duffel bag loaded with clothes and necessities. "What about my car?" he calls to Geddy, who is unlocking a sleek, sexy red Firebird two spaces away.

"Don't worry. I'll send someone for it." When you're rich, Alex assumes, there's always someone to send in these types of situations.

"They won't be suspicious it's not your car?"

"They'll be glad it isn't me this time."

Alex remembers Neil's earlier comment and wonders if Geddy has a bit of a drinking problem.

"You sure you're okay to drive?"

"Better than you," Geddy says, watching Alex struggle to remain vertical during the short walk to his car.

"Fair enough."

Alex tosses his bag into the back and eases into the passenger seat. The engine and radio immediately roar to life, and Geddy dials down the stereo volume in a panic, as though embarrassed about his taste in music. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize for good taste," Alex says, and the corner of Geddy's mouth pulls into a small smile. Geddy adjusts the volume, just enough for Alex to recognize The Black Crowes' bluesy Southern rock.

As they're pulling out of the lot, Alex asks, "Should you really be driving at night while wearing sunglasses?"

Geddy sighs like they've been over this a million times. "I can't even begin to explain how many things are wrong with that sentence."

"Well, I'm drunk, so you're gonna have to."

Another sigh. "Okay. One: they're not sunglasses; they're tinted lenses. Two: they're prescription, so I kinda need them to see."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Alex is gazing out the window at the towering apartment buildings ahead of them, but he's almost certain Geddy's rolling his eyes.

Soon, they're heading into the night, taking an overpass across the highway as stars and streetlamps twinkle around them. Alex watches the view from his window give way to an intricate cityscape, buildings stacked tightly beside each other like Lego blocks. The street signs are in both English and French. He can spot which buildings are important because they look like they've been airlifted out of old England and plopped into Canada.

Alex could live here, right? He's still in the same province, so it's not like he's driven _that_ far, just far enough to make a new start and detach himself from his previous life.

"When the canal freezes over," Geddy says, motioning to the body of water on the other side of the highway, "you can skate on it. It's sort of a big deal here."

"You know how to ice skate?"

"Not really."

Alex catches himself before he says something ridiculous like "well, then I'll teach you," because it's not like he's seriously planning on staying here. He'll wake up in the morning, hungover and homesick, and come crawling back to Toronto and Charlene and the predictable doldrums of his old life.

"What kind of answer is that? You either know or you don't. Skating's not hard," Alex jokes.

"If it was easy, it wouldn't be an Olympic event."

"I meant the 'not falling on your ass' part is easy."

"Speak for yourself."

"Oh my God, you seriously don't know how to ice skate? What kind of Canadian are you?"

Geddy makes his grumpy face again. "Excuse me for spending more time on baseball than hockey."

"No excuse," Alex says, trying to be flirty. _Dial it back, Romeo._ He clears his throat awkwardly and presses his head against the cold glass of the window. "You don't have to take me anywhere fancy. I'll be fine in a roadside motel or a hostel."

"Don't be an idiot. You can sleep at my place. I have a pristine guest room."

So Alex wasn't leaping to conclusions when he thought Geddy was bringing him home. "Oh, jeez, you don't have to—I couldn't ask you to—"

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

"That's really nice of you."

"Well, don't get used to it. I'm not a nice person."

Alex would beg to differ, because offering to let a stranger who you met in a bar crash at your place overnight is absolutely something a nice person would do. Or a serial killer. So it's fifty-fifty.

"You don't think what you're doing for me is nice? Even just a little bit?"

"People can do the right things for the wrong reasons."

Alex turns in his seat and fixes Geddy with a wide-eyed stare. "You _are_ a serial killer, aren't you?" The wording gives away that he has previously considered this possibility, and he isn't sure if this will mark him as someone who knows too much and should be disposed of.

Geddy laughs, crisp and bright and musical. "No, I'm not, and yes, I know that's exactly what a serial killer would say."

"So if you're not a murderer, how can you be doing this for the wrong reasons?"

Geddy taps his fingers on the wheel while they're stopped at a light. Alex studies his face, the way he chews the inside of his lower lip when he's thinking. "You know how you're not supposed to tell a test subject you're giving them a placebo 'cause it'll skew the results?"

"Are you a mad scientist?" Not an unreasonable question, because Geddy kind of looks the part. "Oh, zap me with radiation and give me superpowers! Or just make my penis bigger. Either one. Or both! Radioactive mega-penis!" God damn it, alcohol.

"Radioactive Mega-Penis would be a really good band name—"

"Dibs!"

"But that's not what I'm—" Geddy sighs and starts over, and they're moving again. "Look, if things back home were so bad you drove all the way here, maybe it's worth taking some time to weigh your options."

"How'd it work out for you?" Alex wonders.

"That's not really relevant." Geddy sounds oddly uncomfortable with that question.

"And why not?"

"Because I said so. Now shut up." Geddy chuckles, his words soft and teasing, and Alex wants to stay if only to hear his gentle laughter all the time.

The drive takes them north into an elegant neighborhood with manors and mansions behind ornate metal gates. There are trees everywhere, their colors brilliant with the late hues of summer. Quebec lies just across the Ottawa River. Geddy pulls through a gate and into the driveway of a tall, two-story stone and stucco home.

It takes this opulent display of wealth for Alex to recall that Geddy is rich and famous and handsome and incredibly out of his league. They're not even playing the same sport. Geddy is the lean and wiry baseball superstar, and Alex is the doughy guy who works at the muffler shop next to the stadium.

"Well, here we are," Geddy says, shutting off the engine. Alex wrangles his bag from the back seat and stares at the mansion in front of him. Geddy leads him to the front door, crunching leaves under his Converse as they head up the walkway.

There are two sconces on either side of the front entrance, their lights switched on in the darkness. Geddy sorts through his collection of keys for the proper one—Alex spots a silver keychain of a bass guitar and a tiny baseball dangling from the ring—and lets them inside.

The interior of Geddy's home is just about what Alex expected. Classy and minimalist, the floors are dark hardwood, the walls painted a relaxing cream color. Geddy slides his hand along the wall until he finds the light switch. Soft wall lamps flick on, bathing the living room and entryway in gentle illumination.

Alex doesn't have much time to admire his surroundings before Geddy's leading him up the stairs. "Your house is really nice," Alex says, like there was a chance his dumb ass wouldn't be impressed by a rich person's home.

"I did most of the decorating and renovations when I first moved in."

"So you're a bit of a handyman, huh?"

"You could say that."

The guest room is at the end of the second-floor hallway. The windows cover almost the full width of the far wall and overlook the neat forest of trees in the backyard. The walls are a calming blue paired with corn yellow drapery and throw pillows. A white quilted duvet lies over the bed, and faded turquoise night tables stand on either side.

"You can stay in here," Geddy says. "Bathroom's two doors down. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you get hungry."

"Wow, this is—this is really kind of you. Thank you for letting me stay here."

"Not a good person, remember?" Geddy says, his eyebrows doing a little dance above his glasses. He shoots Alex a small smile and heads for the door at the other end of the hall. Geddy shuts himself inside, and Alex's stomach quivers.


	2. Sensitize Me

The next morning, Alex awakens in a strange bedroom with a slight hangover. The pillows which his face is currently smashed into smell like 'cotton seabreeze,' some made-up sensory tickle he'd read before on one of Charlene's over-priced candles.

Charlene.

Fuck.

Right now, he's about 450 kilometers away from her, from home, splayed drunkenly in a stranger's bed as the morning sun leaks through the curtains. What kind of pitiful shlub goes home with a stranger, booze on their breath and judgment impaired, and doesn't get laid? Doesn't even _try_? Maybe Charlene was right, and he's a pathetic excuse for a man who should drop a few pounds and cut his goddamn hair already ("can't you see that it wants to die?").

He probably shouldn't lie here in Geddy's guest bedroom all day and contemplate his poor life choices. Alex forces himself out of the comfortable warmth of the bed and freshens up in the bathroom. When he's done, he follows the irresistible scent of delicious breakfast food to the kitchen, where Geddy's preparing pancakes on the stovetop. His hair is unrestrained, flowing down his back, and Alex wants to run his fingers through it and sniff it.

That's not weird, right?

Geddy looks at Alex as he enters the kitchen and frowns at him, more specifically at his chest. "How dare you."

Did Alex forget to put clothes on again? He glances down at himself and, no, this time he's fully dressed. In pajamas. Sure, he's wearing Homer Simpson boxer shorts, but Geddy can't see that, since they're concealed underneath a pair of plaid pajama pants. So what's the problem?

_Maybe it's the Toronto Blue Jays t-shirt you're wearing, dumb-shit._

"Oh... Oops." Alex grins at him and sits at the kitchen island, hoping to obscure the offending insignia from view. "In my defense, I was kind of wasted last night. I think I still am."

Geddy momentarily abandons the range to open up the refrigerator and hand Alex a cold can of Sprite. "Drink," he says.

"Drinking's what got me into this mess in the first place."

Geddy folds his arms over his chest to fix Alex with the appropriate amount of exasperation. "Neil told me some complicated science-y explanation, but long story short: clear soda helps with hangovers."

Alex has no reason to doubt him, so he snaps open the can and takes a long drink. "How many of these did you have? You don't seem hung over."

"It takes a lot to get me drunk."

Alex's extra pounds haven't helped him metabolize alcohol faster or more efficiently, but Geddy is long and lean and still manages to wake up after a night of hard drinking with nary an impediment. Where is the justice in the world?

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a heavyweight."

"I've got the championship belt and everything," Geddy says, and from his tone Alex thinks that might be a joke.

Speaking of championships... Alex scans the living room for Geddy's many awards and trophies from his baseball career. The room is strangely devoid of personal touches, like he's living in a model home. The paintings hanging on the walls look like something you'd see in a doctor's office waiting room: nice to look at, but mostly meaningless.

It can't be because Geddy lacks a personality; if he were boring Alex wouldn't have followed him home. "Do you have a trophy room?" Alex wonders. "'Cause I don't see any in here."

Geddy shakes his head, sliding a towering stack of perfect, golden pancakes onto a plate. "They're all in storage. I don't like to dwell on the past. Keep moving forward, y'know?"

If Alex won an award for anything, he'd have it permanently grafted onto his body. How can Geddy just hide his away like they're nothing?

Before Alex can question the madness behind Geddy's method, Geddy asks, "What do you want on your pancakes?"

"Uh... syrup? Are there other options?"

"I usually put hot fudge, caramel, chocolate chips, and whipped cream on mine."

"Jeez, that sounds intense. Do you have a sweet tooth?"

"I think whipped cream should have its own food group."

"So that's a yes?"

Geddy smirks and sets the plate and syrup bottle in front of Alex. The saccharine smell of maple syrup and toasty pancakes drifts into Alex's nose, and he realizes that he's starving. When Geddy turns his back, Alex sections off a chunk of the pancake tower and stuffs it into his mouth. They taste sweet and sticky and perfect.

Once Alex can speak again, he says, "These are good. Do you cook a lot?"

"Not really." Geddy gets to work on making a second batch. "I know how to make a few things, enough to survive on my own."

"Eating is my second favorite thing to do with my mouth, so I cook a lot." Alex chuckles, pouring himself some more syrup.

Something clatters as Geddy fumbles with his utensils. "Should I ask what the first one is?"

"Kissing. Duh," Alex says with his mouth full. "Did you think it was something dirty?"

"That thought crossed my mind, yes."

"Well, I guess it could be dirty..."

Geddy's hand grips tighter around the pancake turner. "What do you usually have for breakfast?"

"It depends on my mood. Sometimes I get lazy and bake a breakfast casserole the night before. Or I wake up and can't decide between bacon, eggs, or sausage, so I bake them all in a crescent roll that I eat entirely by myself."

"I'm sorry, that's incorrect. The answer was Pop-Tarts. I would have also accepted cereal or waffles. Or wine."

"Wine for breakfast?"

"It's five o'clock somewhere, right?"

Alex can't tell if that's supposed to be a joke or a sad peek into Geddy's debilitating alcoholism.

Geddy prepares his diabetes-coated monstrosity and sits at the island with Alex, leaving one seat between them like he doesn't want to intrude on Alex's personal space. "Have you thought about Neil's offer?" he asks, trying casual but falling short.

"To work at the bar? Maybe. I mean, that's definitely what I would do if I stay—how could I not?—but I don't know if I'm gonna stay."

"How spontaneous was your decision to leave?"

"It was pretty spur-of-the-moment, but everything seemed to line up perfectly. Charlene was out of town at friend's wedding. And I'd reached the end of my rope at work. One of our big-name accounts gave us the wrong color number for a product, and there was ironclad documentation that the fuck-up was on them and not me, but the vendor had already shipped the order, and the deadline they gave us made it pretty much impossible to fix without them losing money. I guess I'd just had enough."

Geddy thinks that over for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. "I don't know if my opinion means anything, but I'd like it if you stayed. If you wanted, you could take the guest room 'til you find a place."

Alex almost chokes. "That's really kind of you. But I wouldn't want to impose. And wouldn't your kids be weirded out by the stranger living with their dad?"

"They live in Montreal and only visit for a few weeks in the summer. They just went home the other day, so that won't be a problem."

"What about any dates you bring over?"

Alex doesn't think laughter is the appropriate response to that question.

"You really think a guy who invites a stranger to live with him has an exciting social life?"

Geddy, it seems, is a very lonely person. He is divorced, his kids don't particularly like him, and he spends enough time at a local bar to befriend the bartender. He also seems to subsist on a horrible diet of sugary breakfast foods. God only knows what he eats for the remaining two meals.

Alex could do some good here.

And it doesn't hurt that Geddy is easy on the eyes. And funny and charming, too. Alex isn't shallow.

Except when he is.

"Alright, you don't have to beg. It's embarrassing. I'll stay." Alex grins, and, to his surprise, Geddy smiles back.

* * *

During Alex's first week under Neil's tutelage, Neil praises him for knowing how to actually make drinks and handle a flurry of orders without bursting into tears like most of the college kids he's hired. But Alex's perky, upbeat disposition doesn't mesh well with the grizzled regulars, who prefer to drink in peace.

His goofy social demeanor is a hit on Tuesdays when the bar holds 2-for-1 specials for the students at the local University of Ottawa. Unlike most people his age, Alex keeps abreast of new music, so his jukebox selections earn whoops and cheers from the students as their decade reasserts itself.

On busier nights, Alex works alongside Neil's daughter, Selena. She has dark hair and her father's stone gaze, and a distaste for Alex's enthusiasm, which she deems "totally lame."

"Dad gave you this shift to keep an eye on me, didn't he?" she asked him one night.

"He never asked me to."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course he wouldn't."

"Your dad seems like a pretty forthcoming guy. I don't think subtlety is his bag."

"Oh, okay, I'm sure you, Mr. Only Been Here A Week, know way more about my dad than I do."

So he's not exactly making friends.

But occasionally Geddy comes into the bar and chats him up, and Alex swoons and feels like a love-stricken teenager again.

On Wednesday, Alex gets off work early enough in the evening to prepare a proper dinner for himself and Geddy. He comes through the front door around six thirty holding bulging grocery bags while Geddy's splayed on the couch.

"You're in for a treat, Ged!" Alex calls him 'Ged' now. If the assumption of camaraderie bothers Geddy, he hasn't mentioned it. "I'm cooking dinner tonight."

"Don't bother. I have Pizza Hut on speed dial."

"You can sit here and eat delivery whenever. But it's not every day you get someone to cook for you."

"I could just go to a restaurant."

Alex gives him a look. "No one goes to restaurants by themselves. It's sad."

Geddy chooses not to argue with that. Wise move.

Alex lugs the bags into the kitchen. "You're gonna love this. I call it Lerxst's Mouth Surprise."

"You really shouldn't."

"You're right. It's too good a name for a casserole. Save it for my future band. Smart thinking, Ged."

Alex starts preparing dinner, banishing Geddy to the couch so he can actually get things done. Extra hands in the kitchen tend to be clumsy. While he works, he tries to elicit some conversation from Geddy, since they've been living together a week now and could stand to know a bit more about each other.

"So what do you do all day while I'm at work?" Alex starts.

Geddy shrugs, flipping through the television channels. "Read. Watch TV. Play video games."

"Which system do you have?"

"Uh, both?"

"No!" Alex sort of shouts. "Seriously? I've wanted one of those things for years, but Charlene said they were just for kids. Wait, is that why you have them, so your kids have something to do when they stay over?"

"No, that's just an added bonus."

While dinner's in the oven, Alex joins Geddy on the couch for a heated round of Super Mario Kart. Geddy has clearly spent time getting good at this, but Alex doesn't do too poorly for a first-timer. And Alex absolutely doesn't shout expletives when he's hit by a Koopa shell. Or when he wipes out on a banana peel. And Geddy doesn't gloat when he wins, either.

"Competitive, much?" Alex grumbles after a humiliating loss, getting up to pull the casserole out of the oven.

"You have no idea. I only started playing baseball in high school to upstage my brother."

That's an origin story Alex hasn't heard before. "Really? Did he play too?"

"No, he was just smart. My grades were unremarkable, and I've never had the physique for contact sports, so baseball was my only real option."

"What made you choose pitching?"

"Good pitching can really make or break a team. How many times have you seen teams lose 'cause of a blown save? Even a mediocre batter can hit off a tired or shitty pitcher. I wouldn't say pitching is the most important element of a team's success, but, yeah, it totally is."

Alex chuckles at Geddy's snobbery. "Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. Parts of it, I guess," Geddy says, sounding melancholic.

Alex is curious about the circumstances of Geddy's retirement, but he doesn't want to push or sound obvious about it. They're just getting to know each other, and he can't seem like the only reason he's here is because of Geddy's prior fame.

"So what's next for Geddy Lee?" Alex says in his best reporter voice.

Geddy visibly wilts on the couch. "Why does there have to be a 'next'?"

"Well, you're only, what, forty?"

"Thirty-nine."

"Hey, we're the same age! Maybe we have the same sign too. What's yours?"

"Do you really believe in that stuff?"

"It's just for fun. I'll start: I'm a Virgo. I like long walks on the beach, corny jokes, Crystal Pepsi, and nice butts."

Geddy's face goes through a whole range of emotions that's kind of hilarious to watch. "Please tell me 'Baby Got Back' isn't your favorite song."

"No, because asking me to choose one solitary favorite song is ridiculous. And 'Baby Got Back' is more about celebrating large butts than nicely-shaped ones, and I feel like you're stalling. You're stalling. Tell me your sign."

"Leo."

Alex makes an excited gasping noise. "Is your birthday coming up? When's your birthday?"

"No."

"You're way too young to be grumpy about birthdays. I'll tell you mine: August 27th."

"Noted. I'm still not telling you."

"Aren't Leos supposed to be self-centered and vain?"

"I thought you didn't believe in astrology."

"Not unless I can make sweeping generalizations about my friends."

Geddy makes his pouty thinking face. "Is that what we are? Friends?"

"We will be after you taste this," Alex says, bringing the casserole dish over to the couch. "Very few people can resist my cooking."

Geddy, it turns out, is not one of those few.

"This is really good," he says in a rare moment when he's not shoving forkfuls of food into his mouth. "You sure you're not a chef?"

Alex beams at the compliment. "Not yet. Though it's probably too late for that now, huh?"

"You're only thirty-nine. You can be whatever you want."

This shred of encouragement from Geddy takes Alex off-guard, and he sort of stares dumbly at his plate for a moment while he formulates a response. "You really think so?"

"Why not? You're starting over, right?"

"Yeah, I guess I never really considered that. Charlene didn't like the idea of me being a chef."

"But I bet she appreciated not having to cook every night."

Alex huffs a laugh. "Our marriage was weird. There were a lot of things about me I couldn't really talk about or explore 'cause I was worried she'd freak out. Her parents were really religious, so that kinda rubbed off on her."

"How long were you married?"

"Twenty years."

"No kids?"

"We tried, but it didn't work out."

"Oh..." Geddy sounds solemn, and Alex realizes he may have taken that in a horrible, tragic way. But correcting that misconception will mean revealing Alex's own deficiencies as a man, so he doesn't say anything. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Looking back, I think it illustrated a lot of the deeper problems we had. But by then we'd been married long enough that I felt a sense of duty to stick it out."

Geddy is thoughtfully silent, pushing his food around with the fork. "If you wanna be a chef, I think you should go for it. You'd be really good at it."

"Wow," Alex chuckles. "Charlene never said I was much good at anything. Except disappointing her. And you still don't think you're a good guy?" How does that even make sense?

"I'm really not."

"Man, your standards must be super-high."

"They're not. But I know what I am."

Alex hasn't learned how to handle Geddy when the walls go up and suddenly he doesn't know what to say. He's still blindly groping his way through Geddy's moods, but Alex believes in positive reinforcement.

"I think you're good," Alex says. "And I'm always right, so you're just gonna have to deal with it." He gives him a bright smile.

Geddy doesn't exactly smile back, but his mouth does a twitchy thing that's close enough. Alex isn't expecting a miracle here, but his new goal in life is to make Geddy see the innate goodness inside himself.


	3. Criticize Me

"Hey, Ged, you wanna help me move this weekend?"

Geddy looks up from his drink, stymied by Alex's question. "You're moving?"

It's a Thursday afternoon, and Neil is working the other side of the bar, like he's not eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Yeah, I found a great place on the river," Alex says. "High-rise apartments with an amazing view."

"Why do you need my help? You have, like, two duffel bags worth of crap."

"And no furniture, dumb-dumb. So I guess I'm asking you to go furniture-shopping with me." Alex realizes how that sounds immediately after it leaves his mouth. Why is he allowed to talk?

"I don't really have a car that's built for hauling stuff. Ask Neil if we can borrow his truck."

At the mention of his name, Neil whirls to face them. "Absolutely not. Have either of you ever driven a truck before?"

"No, but it can't be that hard, right?"

Neil just stares like he's gazing into Alex's soul.

"Come off it, Pratt. It's just a pickup," Geddy says.

"My vehicle, my rules. The answer is still no."

"Neil, why don't you come with me instead?" Alex offers. "It'll be fun!"

"That sounds like the opposite of fun."

"I'll go with you, Alex," Geddy volunteers. "Just have the stuff delivered."

Neil lifts an eyebrow in a way that's deceptively familiar; Geddy must have learned his own eyebrow acrobatics from the master. "Geddy, the last time I asked you to do anything with me, you said you'd rather watch a sex tape of your grandparents."

Geddy frowns at his beer, his cheeks flushing red. "I don't have anything to do this weekend."

When Sunday arrives, Alex drags Geddy into the heart of the city to shop for furniture. Occasionally Geddy is recognized, which seems to irritate him greatly.

"This is why I don't go out," Geddy grumbles under his breath after yet another fan encounter.

"Never? Not even for food?"

"Okay, I go out, but I don't enjoy it, and, on principle, I try not to do it unless absolutely necessary."

"This coming from a guy who used to travel about eighty days a year for ten years," Alex reminds him. "What was that like? Did you get to see a lot of the cities you visited?"

"Sometimes. We weren't there for sightseeing."

"If I were a baseball player, I would sample all the local delicacies on away games. Even the boring cities have awesome food. Like, is there anything worth seeing in Milwaukee? I don't know, but I'm stoked to try their cheese. And their beer. I mean, the team's called the Brewers, so you gotta assume their beer is pretty kick-ass."

"Is food all you think about?" Geddy wonders, and, yeah, that's an understandable question to pose.

"Beer's not a food, Ged. Unless wine is also one of your food groups."

"Part of a balanced breakfast." It feels like a rare occasion when Geddy cracks a joke, so Alex likes to savor them as long as he can.

"Do you really have wine for breakfast?" Alex asks, casually exploring the aisles. He's not in any hurry to get this over with, not when stalling means more time with Geddy.

"It's called a liquid diet. All the stars are doing it."

Geddy gives a lot of flippant answers, which bugs Alex, because he wants to get to the gooey, nougaty center of Geddy's personality.

Okay, maybe Alex does have a weird thing about food.

Alex tries another avenue, hoping to move them away from the topic of food. "So how come you moved to a city without a baseball stadium?"

"Starting over. I think you know a little something about that."

And it's here when Alex finally understands why Geddy's short, to-the-point answers rub him the wrong way: they remind him of the passive-aggressive darts Charlene would throw at his head when an argument hovered nearby. Alex feels like he's standing on the precipice of _something_ , but he can't tell what's going to press Geddy's berserk button.

Should he just not talk at all? No, that'd be weird and even more awkward. And the whole point of inviting Geddy was to talk to him, so...

"Why don't you ask me something?" Alex posits, because he can't ask the wrong questions if he's not asking anything.

"Like what?"

"Anything you're curious about. It doesn't even have to be about me. It could be something really stupid, like 'how did the jerk off with those short arms?'"

"Why did you stay here?" Geddy asks, catching Alex off-guard. "You could've kept driving, but you didn't. Why?"

 _Because I have an inappropriate and embarrassing crush on you._ "'Cause I made a friend and got a job offer. Duh. Besides, I don't know French, so Montreal is a huge no. And Nova Scotia just doesn't scream 'fun' to me."

"But Ottawa does?"

"Sometimes you just get a feeling about something, y'know?"

Geddy scowls. "Don't talk to me about feelings. I hate them and prefer not to have them."

"Hate is a feeling. The only way to be completely devoid of feeling is to be a robot. And robots are cool to have as flagrant displays of wealth or intelligence, but not so much for companionship."

"If you were really smart, you could probably program a robot with a fully-functional A.I."

"Well, I'm a total moron, so that wouldn't have even occurred to me."

The corner of Geddy's mouth flickers. "I'm sure you're not a total moron."

"Just like I'm sure you're a good person?"

"Those are two totally different things."

"Sure, Ged," Alex says playfully, squeaking off through the aisles while Geddy glares at his back.

Alex loses him an hour later after signing the delivery forms. He wanders around the store until Geddy appears in one of the aisles looking perplexed by the massive selection of kitchenware.

"There you are!" Alex chirps, and Geddy sort of jumps. "Man, I get why people don't do the whole 'abandon all your shit and start over' thing very often. Furniture is expensive!" Alex sidles up beside him. "Did you find something cool?"

"Wh—no, why would I be looking at—I don't even cook," Geddy sputters like he's been caught looking at porn.

"Okay, weirdo. You wanna get out of here?"

"Yeah, I need a smoke anyway."

They exit the store and stand under the awning to hide from the summer sun. Geddy digs a lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of his jeans' pocket.

"I didn't know you smoked," Alex says.

Geddy lights up. "Only sometimes."

"I used to. But Charlene hated it, so I quit. Then I took up drinking and gained, like, thirty pounds." Alex stares wistfully at the half-full parking lot. "I was beautiful once."

"Nancy wasn't really thrilled with my habit either."

"You don't talk about her a lot," Alex says, because he hasn't met any luck he hasn't pushed just for the hell of it. "Was she that much of a vile hellbeast?"

Geddy shakes his head, blowing smoke out of his nostrils like a dragon. "She wasn't the problem."

"In my experience, divorce is a two-person job."

"No offense, Alex, but you don't know anything about my marriage."

Alex's pulse jumps dementedly under his skin at the angry simmer in Geddy's tone. "You're right, I don't. I'm sorry. Would it help if I told you something embarrassing about me?"

Geddy doesn't get a chance to answer that, because he's been recognized again.

"Geddy Lee? From the Expos?" The fan looks about Alex's age, which makes him feel incredibly old.

Geddy takes a long drag off his cigarette. "That's me."

"Dude, where've you been? What've you been up to since you retired?"

Geddy worries the cigarette between his fingers. "Oh, this and that."

"Do you still talk to your old teammates?"

"No."

Alex hears the terseness in Geddy's voice, and he senses they're sliding down a slippery slope with nothing good at the bottom.

"Not even Rutsey? You guys made a great team."

"Again, no. Not sure what part of that was open to interpretation," Geddy says with venom.

"Okay, you don't need to be a dick."

Alex feels second-hand panic just overseeing this. He wants to intervene, but the guy stomps off, and the moment is over.

Geddy takes another drag. "See, Alex? When you see someone as they really are, it ruins them."

Alex scrambles for something to say. "I'm not sure if that's true. But you should probably treat your fans better." This is not remotely constructive or helpful.

Geddy scoffs. "I don't want _fans_. What I want is to be able to go out without being constantly reminded of who I used to be. The Geddy they think they know is dead."

"But is he buried? Zombies, man. You never know."

Alex's mouth has never obeyed when his brain tells him to shut up, but he doesn't expect Geddy to just give up on their conversation. Geddy sighs and drops his cigarette onto the concrete, stubbing it out with the toe of his sneaker.

"I'm going home," Geddy says as he walks away.

Alex just stands there wondering what the hell just happened.

Good thing they took separate cars.

* * *

All of Alex's belongings are packed away in the trunk of his car, so he spends the night in his new, empty apartment rather than tread shaky ground with Geddy. He probably needs some time to cool off anyway. If Geddy has been living alone since the divorce, he's not used to sharing his space with anyone, much less someone as annoying and energetic and incessantly chipper as Alex.

"So how was your date with Geddy?" Selena asks him the next evening during their shift. Neil must have told her about their outing.

"It wasn't a date," Alex feels compelled to say. "And if it was, it kinda sucked. I guess I said something wrong 'cause he stormed off."

"Classic Geddy. He's only nice to me—and I use that word loosely—'cause he's afraid of what my dad'll do if he's not."

"To be fair, your dad is pretty intimidating. How does he do that thing with his eyebrows?"

Selena chooses not to answer that. "Look, Alex, you're one of the few people I don't totally hate, so let me give you some advice. Don't go for the bad boys. They'll break your heart and make you miserable."

"You're deceptively wise for your age." Then: "Wait, what makes you think I'm even interested in Geddy that way?"

Selena rolls her eyes like Alex is being purposely obtuse. "You get really stupid around him, like those girls who fake-laugh at whatever dumb jokes a boy makes so he'll like her. It's gross and totally obvious. I don't know how he hasn't figured it out."

Alex hopes his face isn't as red as it feels. "That doesn't prove anything," he says with a nervous laugh. "You kids and your silly ideas."

Selena's theory isn't so silly when Geddy shows up at the bar a little while later. Now that his apparent fawning has been pointed out, Alex doesn't know how to be. He didn't think he was being obvious before, but, shit, maybe he was. Maybe that's part of why Geddy stormed off without any notice.

"Hey," Geddy murmurs, taking a seat at the bar.

Alex wipes the space in front of him with a rag before setting down an empty glass. "The usual?"

"Sure." As Alex pours, Geddy clears his throat. "Um, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I was an asshole. I'm sorry."

"It's okay! I'm a lot to deal with. Mostly 'cause I rarely stop talking unless physically restrained. I can't even remember how many times I'd overhear Charlene on the phone saying 'I wish he'd just shut up!' Too many to count."

"I don't mind the talking. I just get shitty sometimes. It's not your fault."

"You're a grumpy old man, Ged. It comes with turning forty."

"We're the same age," Geddy grouses.

"But I've retained my youthful spirit while yours suffered a gruesome, tragic death."

Selena makes a noise from the other side of the bar. "You guys are gross."

Is Alex being a flirtatious embarrassment again? And if so, how does he stop?

"Sorry." Alex looks at Geddy, lowers his voice. "I'm glad you showed up. I was worried..."

Geddy risks a glance at Alex before dropping his gaze to his drink. "I wasn't always like this."

"Like what?" Alex has some ideas, but there's no way he's saying them aloud.

"A giant temperamental asshole."

So whatever Alex said probably would've been okay, then.

"Charlene could be temperamental too. I wouldn't say I'm used to it, but it takes more than a few mood swings to scare me off."

Geddy half-smiles, and Alex is counting it as progress.

After the bar closes up, Geddy lingers, and Selena thinks that's a little odd. "No offense, but don't you have any other friends?"

"Rude," Alex says in a tiny voice.

"No, not really," Geddy says. "Most of my friends were the husbands of Nancy's friends. So when we split, she got custody of them and the kids. Then I moved away."

Selena frowns. "Your life is the saddest story I've ever heard."

"You don't know the half of it," Geddy says with a weary half-smirk. He looks at Alex. "When you're done, there's something in my car I wanna show you." He squeezes his eyes shut. "I know how that sounds, but I promise it's nothing unsavory."

"I knew you were a serial killer!" Alex gloats. "Wait, why am I happy about that?"

"If you kill Alex, you'll have to kill me too since I could lead the cops to you," Selena says. "And if you kill me, my dad will go on an epic quest for revenge. Just walk away."

"I'm not murdering anyone," Geddy says, like this isn't the first time he's had to say that sentence out loud. "I got Alex a housewarming gift."

Selena laughs. "Oh my God. You got him a present?"

"A housewarming gift," Geddy insists.

"Gift is just another word for present."

"Why do we have two words for the exact same thing? English is stupid."

"You got me a present?" Alex pipes up. "That's really sweet of you."

"It's almost like you like him or something," Selena teases.

"When I would get into a fight with Nancy, I'd end up buying her something expensive and extravagant to apologize. Old habits die hard," Geddy explains, his cheeks flushed red, either from embarrassment or alcohol or a cocktail of both.

"Oh man, you shouldn't have gotten me anything expensive."

"It's really weird that you'd associate arguing with Alex and arguing with your ex," Selena points out.

Geddy slides off the barstool in a huff. "Forget it." He walks to the door, shoves it open like he blames it for everything.

"No," Alex whines in a way which takes at least ten points off his rugged manliness rating. He abandons Selena behind the bar and hurries into the parking lot where Geddy is unlocking his car. "Ged, wait! Just for the record, I wasn't the one making fun of your generosity. Selena was. Holding that against me isn't fair. Plus I really wanna know what you got me."

Geddy stops what he's doing and fixes Alex with a stare that feels as though he's looking right through him. Alex smiles like a doofus.

Alex's exuberance seems to wear Geddy down. Geddy sighs, "Alright," and moves around to the trunk to unlock it. He withdraws a large box containing a slow cooker, and Alex is stunned.

"Whoa. Ged, this is—Wow." A realization occurs to Alex. "Is that why you were looking at the kitchen stuff yesterday?"

"No, shut up, I just thought you could use one." Geddy is all flustered and blushy, so Alex feels safe in assuming that was the reason why.

Alex doesn't know what else to say. "Thanks. It's been a really long time since I've gotten a gift this thoughtful."

"You're welcome." A small smile tugs at Geddy's mouth; Alex is really curious what Geddy looks like with a full, genuine smile, and he's making it his goal to elicit one at some point during their friendship.

After Geddy leaves, Alex loads the package into his car. In his hands is physical evidence that Geddy is a kind, thoughtful person, yet Geddy would still insist he's awful human garbage. What is wrong with his brain? Were his parents inhumanly altruistic, giving him the impression that unless he was feeding starving orphans every day that his actions were meaningless?

Alex knows how parents can fuck you up; Charlene's folks were weirdly religious, enough that she believed with deep conviction that Alex's desires to try anal sex with her meant he harbored secret gay fantasies. Which, okay, in the end she wasn't wrong, but that's still a pretty ignorant generalization.

Even his thoughts have gotten off-track.

Alex heads back to the bar, and he's so thrilled by Geddy's gesture of goodwill that he's not even upset when he finds Selena has locked him out.


	4. Civilize Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanmix link: http://8tracks.com/sodium-amytal/1-9-9-3

It's the middle of July, and Alex doesn't feel like spending his evening preparing an indulgent meal. He'd much rather have someone else do it for him, which leads him to a sleek, intimate Italian restaurant in Centretown. The interior is filled with warm and cozy colors, mahogany hardwood floors and slick black leather chairs. Most of the tables and booths are crowded with couples, but Alex spots a few lone diners, and—

No way.

Tucked away at a table near the wine shelves is Geddy, eating alone like a goddamn savage.

Alex takes his glass of Coke and abandons his seat. "This is the saddest thing ever," he says, approaching Geddy's table.

Geddy looks up, sees Alex, and an inexplicable expression crosses his face. Probably because his mouth is full of fettuccine alfredo. "And what are you doing here?" he asks after he swallows. "Got a date?"

"With myself. Which is great, because I enjoy my own company and I always laugh at my jokes."

"I thought you said only sad people eat alone at restaurants."

"What's your point?" Alex sets his glass on the table and pulls up the chair across from Geddy. As he sits, he says, "Wait, you're not on a date, are you? 'Cause I wouldn't want her to see you sitting here with me and blow the whole thing off."

"Don't worry about it."

So Alex doesn't. If Geddy didn't want him here, he'd speak up. Or his tone would be saturated in disdain, but he actually sounds kind of glad that Alex has joined him.

Alex steals a garlic roll from the table's communal basket. "So what's good here?"

"Depends on what you like. You mentioned cheese before, so maybe try the five-cheese ziti."

Alex snags a menu from a nearby table and cracks it open. "Oh shit, they have pepperoni bread? Lasagna with alfredo? I want all of this in my mouth right now."

It's in this moment Alex realizes he's an embarrassing person to be around, and he probably shouldn't be his dumb, easily-excited self if he wants Geddy to find him attractive.

"Sorry. I just really love food."

"What's the saying: 'Never trust a skinny chef'?"

"Oh, great, all these extra pounds went to a good cause." Alex grins, and he's shocked when Geddy manages to smile back. It's not a full-wattage stunner, but it's good enough. Must be the wine he's drinking.

Alex orders a mid-range bottle of Merlot, the pepperoni bread, and an enormous combo platter clearly intended for two people. Neither the waitress nor Geddy judge him for his gluttonous order, but he can feel a judgey vibe in the air. Or maybe that's just his own anxiety.

Geddy swirls the wine in his glass, looking suave and sophisticated. Under the soft lights, Alex sees minutiae about Geddy he never particularly noticed before. The way his long, messy hair catches the light and glows ochre. The sharp lines of his face. His small, almost beady eyes, unobscured by his glasses. The faint hint of cologne. His thin, slightly parted lips that Alex wants underneath his own.

Geddy is a work of art, and in this moment Alex is strangely happy.

He really wishes this were a date.

"What were you going to tell me?" Geddy asks, disrupting Alex's thoughts like a pinprick.

"What are you talking about?"

"Last week, before I was a jackass and blew up on you, you were gonna tell me something embarrassing."

"Oh jeez, that's... not really something you want me to get into."

"If you're not gonna share your secrets, then I won't share mine."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Wouldn't be the worst thing I've done."

"See, you can't do that. You can't say cryptic, interesting stuff and then never follow up."

Geddy smirks. "Because it's tantalizing?"

There are a lot of things tantalizing about Geddy, most of which Alex can't mention without sounding like a creep. And he's not sure if Geddy's into dudes anyway.

"Yes. Exactly."

Alex takes a sip of wine. He should tell Geddy about this. Not only is Geddy an unbiased party, but hearing Alex's revelation of weakness might embody him with confidence to expose the tender underbelly of his own shortcomings. It'll be a bonding exercise.

Just get it over with quickly. Like ripping off a band-aid.

"Charlene and I couldn't have kids because I'm sterile."

Geddy doesn't laugh like Alex expected he would, and this silent understanding gets the words flowing.

"I had no problems with adopting or using a donor, but she didn't want someone else's kid. She wanted it to be ours. At first she kinda brushed the problem off, like it was something temporary caused by stress. But as time went on and nothing changed, I think she started to resent me even more. Because not only was I not a 'real man' 'cause I couldn't perform the basic function of getting her pregnant, but now I'd 'wasted her childbearing years.' Some nights I'd lie awake hoping she'd cheat on me and get pregnant by the other guy, but we'd never know who the real father was, and she could just assume it was me and we'd all be happy."

"Wow," Geddy says, seemingly at a loss for the right words. "Alex, that sucks."

"I've never told this to anyone. I mean, outside of marriage counselors."

"You went to counseling?"

"Yeah, a couple times. Charlene was a horrible gambler."

Geddy tilts his head a bit, and Alex wants to put his hand to his cheek. "What do you mean?"

"There's this thing called the gambler's fallacy. It's when people lose a lot of money but can't walk away because they've already invested so much. Her line of reasoning was 'if I divorce him now, I'm admitting I've wasted however many years of my life for nothing.' She always felt like her luck was gonna turn."

"What changed her mind?"

"I got drunk one night and found the courage to tell her all the weird, fucked-up fantasies I kept hidden 'cause I thought she would judge me. She assumed I was gay and wanted out of our 'sham' marriage."

Talking about this bums him out, because he's forced to remember that horrible conversation turned screaming match, but his food arrives, and all woes are forgotten. Everything looks amazing; he doesn't know what to try first, so he just jabs his fork into a random area on the plate and takes a bite.

"It's so good I'm crying," Alex whimpers around a mouthful of ravioli, and it's not hyperbole. There are actual tears.

Geddy cracks a smile. He inches his fork toward Alex's steaming, oversized plate. "There's no way you can finish this by yourself."

"Do not doubt my powers." Alex licks away the sauce at the corner of his mouth.

"Let me rephrase: you _shouldn't_ finish this by yourself." Geddy spears a meatball and brings it over to his own plate. "If you're determined to die of a heart attack at 43, fine, but at least let me try to stop you."

"Such a noble yet pointless cause."

Geddy steals a few more spoonfuls of Alex's food, loading up his plate with small samples of pepperoni bread, spaghetti, lasagna, and chicken parmigiana. "Thank you for opening up about your depressing life," he says with a teasing lilt. "So I guess I should open up about mine, as per our agreement."

"It was just a verbal agreement. Nothing binding." Alex doesn't want Geddy to feel like he has to reveal anything right now if he's not ready.

"I know. But I should start keeping my word." Geddy fingers the stem of his wineglass, like he can't decide whether to take a drink. "I had an affair. That's why my marriage failed, and that's why I quit baseball."

Alex is stunned, both by the admission and the fact that it should have been obvious. Why didn't this possibility ever occur to him? It explains why Geddy's kids dislike him, and why Geddy thinks he's an awful person.

"There's more to the story, but I can't tell you yet. But I will. Someday. Maybe on my deathbed, but it'll happen."

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me at all. I wanna be somebody you get excited to talk to. Like 'that Alex sure is great! I always feel good when I'm around him.' Not somebody who's gonna dredge up painful shit."

"Can I tell you something else?"

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" Alex chuckles. "Go on."

"The last few weeks... Since you came here..." Geddy shakes his head, starts over. "Sometimes I feel like I'm watching a movie of someone else's life, and when it's over I'm gonna wake up and everything will be back to the way it was before you showed up."

"Like a shitty Groundhog Day sequel."

Geddy huffs laughter. This is the most Alex has ever seen him smile.

"Don't worry, Ged. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

One week later, Charlene manages to track him down. Alex isn't totally shocked to hear her voice on the other end of the phone line at ten a.m., but it still comes as a bit of a surprise.

"So you're in Ottawa now?" she says.

Alex rubs his sleepy eyes on the off-chance this is a dream.

"What's it like?"

"It's... different."

They were married for twenty years. Now they indulge in bullshit small talk.

"How did you find me?" Alex wonders.

"I traced your credit card and looked in the phone book," Charlene says, her voice filled with pride. The smugness falls away when she asks, "What's in Ottawa, Alex? What made you stop and build a life there?"

_I have a huge gay crush on an emotionally-constipated ex-baseball player I met in a bar._

"I got tired of driving. It's as good a place as any. It's the Washington D.C. of Canada."

He hears her laugh a quiet, tired sound. Somewhere in there has to be the same woman who once laughed whole-heartedly at his dumb jokes. Or has his corny sense of humor run its course over their two decades of marriage?

"I have something important to tell you," she says.

Alex sits up in bed and pushes the hair out of his face. "I'm listening."

"Okay, well, I've been talking to Vic—remember, our marriage counselor?—and he's been helping me work through my feelings about the divorce and turning forty. He just gets me, y'know?"

"'Cause he's paid to. And I'm sure he doesn't mind that he gets to ogle your breasts."

"You never did."

Alex feels like that's a jab at his sexuality, but straight men can prefer asses to tits, too. He's just being paranoid. "He sounds like a sleaze."

"Vic is a perfect gentleman."

"Are you fucking him? Is that where you're going with this?"

"No," Charlene says pointedly. "If you'd just let me finish."

"Fine, go ahead."

"Anyway, talking with Vic made me look inside myself and come to terms with my flaws. So I think I should tell you—" She stops, as though struggling to finish the thought. "There's someone else. I met him at that real estate agents' conference in Vancouver, remember?"

Alex remembers, because that was about six months before they separated. Acid churns in his stomach as the realization dawns on him. "You were seeing somebody else before the separation?"

"I didn't—I didn't mean for it turn out this way. But he wanted me, and I was unhappy, so I let it happen. Then we started talking and built this whole relationship, and—"

"Jesus, I'd rather you were fucking the marriage counselor!" Alex can't believe what he's hearing. During the tension-filled days of their marriage, when Charlene's obsession with getting pregnant reached its heights, he'd wanted her to cheat on him, but only to fulfill the reproductive mechanics Alex himself couldn't. The fact that, while they were still married, Charlene fell in love with someone else cuts him deeper than any sexual infidelity ever could.

"Alex, I'm sorry, I truly am, but that's not—"

"So now that I'm starting over and making a new life, you show up to tell me you were cheating on me? What was the point of this, Charlene? Did Vic tell you it was a good idea to come clean? Because I would've been fine living the rest of my life without knowing this."

Alex slams the phone into its cradle and, when it rings again, unplugs it from the wall.

* * *

Two days of pestering Neil earns Alex Geddy's birthdate, and it couldn't come at a better time. After Charlene's little surprise, Alex welcomes a distraction from the hurt and betrayal rippling outwards from his past life. So he fixates his attention on throwing Geddy the perfect birthday party. Alex has a week and a half to prepare, and it must perfect, because if Geddy's been divorced for five years, it's been at least that long since he's had a decent birthday celebration.

Geddy doesn't seem like he'd appreciate a surprise party filled with friends and well-wishers. Does Geddy even have friends aside from Neil, Selena, and Alex himself? A surprise party with only three guests strikes Alex as sad. Best not to remind Geddy he doesn't have very many friends.

On the afternoon of Geddy's birthday, Geddy shows up to the bar presumably to drown his sorrows. Alex greets him with a grin that hurts his cheeks. "Happy birthday! You're so old! Are you sure you should be drinking?"

Geddy glares at Alex from behind his glasses. "Who told you?"

"Neil," Alex says proudly, ignoring the frowny face Geddy's making and pouring his usual drink. "It took some convincing and a bit of pleading and begging, but I finally found out when your birthday is, and you're in luck, because I'm amazing at parties."

"No parties."

Selena nudges Alex aside and leans forward on the countertop. "Why? Are you gonna say something super depressing like, 'I hate birthdays 'cause they remind me I'm one year closer to death,' or 'birthdays are a scam invented to sell cards'?"

"I don't sound like that," Geddy says, scrunching up his face.

Alex looks at Selena. "He's right. His voice isn't that deep."

She actually giggles.

"I don't want a party because I don't like people making a fuss over me," Geddy explains.

"But everyone likes cake and presents." Alex slides Geddy his drink, some of the liquid sloshing over the rim and splashing onto his knuckles. "Even huge grumps who hate everything."

"I don't hate _everything_..."

"Yeah, nobody hates everything," Selena says. "Like, puppies are cool. And chocolate."

"Ged, what's your stance on puppies and chocolate? Or chocolate puppies? New band name, called it!"

Geddy just groans and swallows his rum mixer.

Two hours after Alex's shift is over, he calls Geddy with an important message: "Ged, hey, I need your help. Will you come over and help me fix my sink?" He remembers reading an article in Time magazine about asking someone for a favor if you want them to like you. Yes, this is a flimsy ruse to get Geddy to Alex's apartment for his not-so-surprise birthday party, but still.

Geddy sighs, long and crackly on the other end of the phone. "Fine, let's get this stupid party over with."

"Hey, I didn't say a word about a party. This is a plumbing emergency."

"Your father was a plumber!" Geddy snarls. "You should know how to fix this through, I don't know, osmosis or something."

Alex vaguely recalls telling Geddy that at some point during their cohabitation. "Just come over, please?"

Geddy has an entire catalogue of noises that communicate exasperation and disappointment. This one is no exception.

Thirty minutes later, Alex pulls his front door open after Geddy's first knock. "You showed up!" Alex sort of gasps. He draws the door open wider so Geddy can step inside. "Come in, come in!"

Geddy gets as far as the living room before he freezes, undoubtedly spotting the smorgasbord laid out on the table. There are platters of delicious food, a bottle of Bordeaux, and two sets of dinnerware.

"There's no sink emergency, is there?"

Alex has never been happier to admit to a lie. "Nope! That was just a ruse to get you here, and you fell for it!" He laughs in what he assumes is an evil way, but it probably just sounds like he's got something in his throat.

Alex scurries to the dining table and proudly exhibits each item like they're prizes on a game show. "Tonight's main course is creamy taco ranch chicken, courtesy of my slow cooker. For sides we have fully-loaded nachos, and tonight's wine selection is a saucy red—your favorite. And for dessert we have the _piece de resistance_ "—he slides on socked feet over the linoleum kitchen floor to pop open the refrigerator—"the best damn peach pie you'll ever taste! It's an award-winning recipe, so I'm not just blowing smoke here."

Geddy hasn't said anything, which Alex takes as a sign something is wrong, so he keeps talking.

"And I know how much you love whipped cream, so I have two cans: one to top the pie, and the other to spray directly into your mouth! And if you want, I have some taped Simpsons episodes we can watch."

Geddy looks bewildered and angry and on the verge of tears. It's a strange mix Alex has never seen on his face before.

Maybe this was a horrible idea, and Alex shouldn't have bothered.

Alex shuts the refrigerator door. "Or we can do none of those things and you can just leave if you think this is stupid."

"It's not stupid," Geddy says, almost tripping over Alex's words. "It's just... It's been a very long time since someone did so much for my birthday." He glances around. "And you didn't invite anyone? No one's gonna jump out and yell 'surprise' and make me open gifts?"

"Nope! It's just us! Or I can leave, if you'd prefer."

"It's your apartment."

Alex shrugs. "It's your birthday."

"Well, I'm glad I get to spend it with you."

If Alex wasn't already tuned to the soft cadence of Geddy's voice he wouldn't have heard him.

They sit at the table, and Geddy looks uncomfortable, like he doesn't know how to behave in the face of Alex's extravagant kindness. While Alex pours the wine, Geddy asks, "So what's this award-winning pie of yours?"

"Oh! Well, as much as it embarrassed Charlene, I used to enter any local cook-offs and baking contests I could find. They were mostly populated by sweet old ladies and housewives, so there weren't a lot of husbands pitching in, which made me somewhat of a novelty. Anyway, I perfected this recipe for peach pie that won every time I submitted it. Except that one fair in '89. Damn Donna and her s'mores cake. It was sugar free! That's not even real cake!"

Geddy's mouth does a cute lilt-y thing. "Peach pie is my favorite dessert."

"I know!" Alex says proudly. "You mentioned it once." He taps the side of his head. "I got a mind like a steel trap."

"It was really nice of you to go to all this trouble for me," Geddy says quietly. "Thank you."

"It's no problem! I love making people happy. 'Cept I didn't do that great a job with Charlene, 'cause apparently she started banging some other guy before we were even separated."

Alex, bitter? Perish the thought.

"That sucks," Geddy says, probably not knowing what else to say.

"I wouldn't even be mad about it if she hadn't called and told me a couple weeks ago." Alex scoffs. "I guess her therapist told her to confess the worst thing she did to me, like just the act of admitting it wipes the slate clean." It takes Alex a moment to realize he probably shouldn't be bitching about his ex-wife's infidelity to a guy who's also guilty of cheating on his spouse.

"Shit, fuck, I'm sorry," Alex sputters, tugging the collar of his t-shirt like he's Rodney Dangerfield. "I'm the worst person in the world. Go ahead and punch me right in the dick. I deserve it."

"I'm not gonna punch you in the dick," Geddy says, as though that's an outrageous suggestion. "It's okay. You're allowed to be upset."

"Know your audience."

"Alex, it's okay. I guarantee you she didn't cheat for the same reasons I did."

"You're right: it is okay. 'Cause hearing what she did makes me feel justified in moving here."

After dinner, they move to the couch to watch Alex's collection of tapes. Geddy eats an abnormal amount of the pie and finishes off the wine. The sugar and alcohol have created a potent cocktail that has Geddy fading quickly, and an hour later he's fast asleep, slumped against Alex.

Alex sits there in the soft glow of the television, watching the calm slumber of this enigmatic man he has fallen in love with. He wishes he knew the right combination of words that would enable Geddy to take a chance on him. The right words to sneak through an opening in the barbed-wire fence around Geddy's heart.

And it probably doesn't bode well for Alex that he's fallen for someone who openly admitted to infidelity. Alex isn't always the best judge of character—how could he have forseen the downfall of his own marriage?—but he thinks Geddy wouldn't take him for granted. People don't change because they want to; they change because they have to. And Geddy has seemingly paid the price for his indiscretions, having lost his career and his family.

Alex sighs, tucking a loose chunk of Geddy's hair behind his ear. "Happy birthday, Ged."


	5. Compensate Me

Geddy is understandably surprised to wake up on Alex's couch the next morning. "Shit," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and sitting up as Alex quietly moves about in the kitchen.

"Good morning!" Alex sing-songs. "How'd you sleep?"

"That's a nice couch," Geddy says, still sleep-dazed.

"Isn't it? Great for passing out drunk."

"Was I that bad?"

"No way. You were a perfect gentleman. Well, 'til you fell asleep. Then you started mumbling some pretty raunchy stuff. It was a real eye-opener."

Geddy makes a strangled noise of terror. "Oh God."

Alex cannot keep a straight face. "I'm joking!" he says, snorting laughter. That's probably really unattractive and he should stop doing it. "You should see your face!"

"Dick."

Alex chuckles to himself, pulling ingredients out of the fridge. "I know you'd rather have pancakes, but it's my house, and I don't want diabetes, so we're having my amazing breakfast casserole that makes grown men cry. Well, I've never actually tested that, but it makes _me_ cry tears of joy, so technically I'm not lying."

Geddy makes an amused sound and pads into the kitchen, where Alex is grabbing bowls and pans out of the cabinets. "Need some help?"

"No, it's a one-man job—Wait, actually..." Alex pushes a bag of half a dozen bread rolls toward him. "Tear these up into little chunks for me, _por favor_."

Geddy gives him a look, possibly questioning Alex's sanity, and does as he's asked. Alex greases the casserole dish and drops in the bread chunks to form a hefty, delicious bottom layer.

"So what are we making exactly?" Geddy wonders when he's finished with the bread.

Alex hands him a package of cream cheese. "Hey, keep tearin', lazybones."

"Seriously?" Geddy sighs like this is some great inconvenience, but he does it anyway.

Alex throws a cup of shredded cheese on top of the bread layer while Geddy adds the cream cheese pieces. "We're making an amazing casserole that's gonna be the best thing you ever put in your mouth."

Geddy snickers. "I seriously doubt that."

"I know it doesn't look like much right now, but it's wonderful. Haven't you learned anything from our time as roommates?"

"I learned that you never stop talking. It's like you're powered by cocaine every waking moment."

"You don't know that I'm not," Alex points out. "I could've done a huge line when I woke up."

"I'm gonna remind Neil to drug test you."

Alex laughs. "He already did when I was hired."

"Maybe it's time for another one."

When Geddy finishes with the cream cheese, Alex hands him a carton of eggs and tells him to get crackin'.

"This looks like a train wreck," Geddy says while Alex places butter squares on top of the bread and cheese.

"You have no right criticizing my cooking when you put hot fudge and whipped cream and all sorts of sugar-related disasters on your pancakes."

"This needs ten eggs!" Geddy fishes an eggshell chip out of the bowl with a pinky. "And absolutely nothing should require almost two sticks of butter."

"Hello, Mr. Pot, I'd like to introduce you to my dear friend Mr. Kettle."

"Am I the pot or the kettle?"

"Does it really matter?"

"It does, 'cause I wanna make a pothead joke."

"Oh, of course you're a stoner," Alex says, rolling his eyes. Then a thought occurs to him. "How come you never toked up while we lived together?"

"I'm lazy enough already. Do you really wanna see me under the influence of pot?"

"I do, because it would be hilarious."

"When was the last time you smoked?"

Alex doesn't bother arguing with Geddy's assumption that he's used marijuana before, because, look at him. Of course he has. "God, ages ago. Like most things, Charlene frowned upon it, so it's been a while. And it's not exactly a breeze to find pot in the suburbs of Toronto."

Geddy laughs. "You weren't looking very hard, were you?"

"Shut up and start whisking."

"Well, I see why Charlene didn't like the idea of you being a chef. You're bossy."

"I am not!"

"It's not really your call," Geddy says, the teasing tone of his voice tying knots in Alex's stomach.

Alex wants to push Geddy against the kitchen counter and claim his frustrating mouth. He can't remember the last time he wanted something—or someone—so badly that it's a physical ache in his chest.

Geddy's saying Alex's name, sharply enough that it snaps Alex from daydreaming about mouthing over his skin.

"What do I do next?" Geddy asks.

"Oh. Um, I think you're done. Let me just..." Alex adds milk to the eggs, drops in some spices, then pours the mixture over the bread and cheese and butter. It's sinful and excessive and soon to be delicious.

"I'm sorry I said you were bossy," Geddy says softly while Alex sticks the dish in the oven. "I just don't like being told what to do."

"That must have been fun for your coaches."

"That's different; playing ball was my job. I don't take orders off the clock."

"Clearly you do, because that was the result of teamwork," Alex says, pointing to the casserole baking to perfection.

Geddy smirks. "Well, I'll do it, but I won't be happy about it."

Less than an hour later, Geddy is happy to eat his words again when the casserole-omelette hybrid comes out of the oven. According to Geddy, it's the second-best thing he'll ever put in his mouth; Alex will take the silver medal as long as he gets to say "I told you so."

He does, however, wonder what that first best thing is.

* * *

One week later, Geddy finally initiates a social activity with Alex. "So, um, there's this thing next Friday..." he starts, his thumb playing over the rim of his glass.

This immediately grabs Alex's attention, because it sounds like Geddy might be asking him on a date. Or at least a cleverly disguised date. "Yeah?"

"The Expos are opening a hall of fame, and I'm one of five players being honored. I was wondering if you'd like to go with me? To the ceremony? It's in Montreal, obviously, so it's a bit of a drive..."

"Yes!" Alex says, embarrassed how easily the word bursts from his mouth. "Of course, that would be great! A little road trip, right? I'll make a mixtape!"

Geddy's mouth does that twitchy-smile thing. "They booked me a room at a nice hotel near the stadium. You're welcome to stay with me if you want."

"How nice?"

"Four-star."

"The last time I was in a four-star hotel was my tenth anniversary. I'll totally stay, even if I have to sleep on the floor. Or in the tub."

"I don't think that's gonna be necessary."

Not only has Geddy invited Alex on a potential date, but he's suggesting they share a room, too. At least when Alex was Geddy's actual roommate, he stayed in the guest room, and there were no awkward sleeping arrangements.

For someone who hasn't even asked Alex to lunch before, this is a big step for Geddy.

Geddy arrives at Alex's apartment in the middle of the afternoon the next Friday. Alex slides into the passenger seat with an economically-packed duffel bag thrown into the backseat. In his lap is a plastic freezer bag full of white chocolate-covered Rice Chex.

"I made snacks!" he announces proudly.

Geddy seems to have known Alex long enough not to doubt the deliciousness of whatever he's prepared. "I see."

"If you like sweets, you'll love these. They're like little crunchy cupcakes. With sprinkles."

Alex might be tipping his hand here. No heterosexual man gets excited over sprinkles.

Most likely humoring him, Geddy reaches into the bag for a few pieces and drops them into his mouth. He makes a curiously pornographic noise as he chews. "Oh. These are good."

Alex gives him a smug smile. "I told you."

As Geddy gets them onto the road, Alex reaches behind his own seat and unzips a side pocket of his bag. Inside the pocket are a few CDs and a cassette tape. He pops the tape into the car's tape deck and stashes the CD cases in the glovebox. "As promised, our road trip mixtape."

"Of course you actually made a mixtape," Geddy chuckles.

Alex settles back in his seat and tries to enjoy the ride. The urge to fill silence with words is like an itch Alex can't help but scratch. He knows antipathy brews in the spaces between words, secret resentments floating to the surface when the noise of the world fades away. So he fills that space with whatever he can: stupid jokes, drawn-out anecdotes, loud music.

It's a good thing he's not talking. Geddy probably wanted to mirror the kind gesture of Alex's surprise party, so he didn't think through the reality of inviting Alex to spend two-plus hours with him in an enclosed space. Alex's high-energy personality is tolerable in small doses, which is why his marriage ultimately failed (among other reasons). Geddy cherishes his space and alone time and doesn't seem to talk very much.

So of course Alex would fall for someone the complete opposite of himself.

Way to pick 'em, moron.

The music keeps them occupied, flowing from the heavy grind of Tool and Alice In Chains to the lighter, ethereal guitar work of Temple Of The Dog. Geddy doesn't complain about how modernized Alex's taste in music is (a complaint for which Alex is throughly prepared, the CDs stashed in the glovebox containing more classic artists). He just wears that same serious, contemplative expression, as though homesick for a place he's never been.

After about thirty minutes, Geddy dials down the stereo. "You okay?"

Alex is staring out the passenger side window like a tortured teen poet on a train, so that's an appropriate question.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You've been really quiet. You're not even gloating when I eat these things," Geddy says, snagging another handful of tasty snacks.

"Sorry. I know I can be a lot to deal with, so I'm trying not to be so"—Alex searches for the right word, can't find one—"me."

"But I like you."

Alex's head whirls to look at him.

Geddy seems to hear how that sounds to Alex, because he tries to bury it under more words. "I like that you talk a lot, 'cause I don't. I like that you get excited and enthusiastic about things. You're a good person. Don't change that."

Alex has no idea what to say, but that doesn't stop him from saying something anyway. "Thanks, Ged. That's... That's really nice."

"Don't let it fool you. I invited you 'cause I need emotional support." Geddy tightens his grip on the wheel and takes a breath. "There's a chance Nancy and the kids might show up, but more importantly, I had a falling-out with a teammate shortly before I quit, and he's one of the honored guests tonight. Maybe he won't show, but knowing him, he probably will. I just... I'd feel a lot better if I wasn't alone, y'know?"

"That's not a bad thing."

"It's selfish."

"How? You invited me to go somewhere and do something fun." Alex steals another handful of cupcake Chex before Geddy eats them all. "You're so hard on yourself. I don't get it. Yeah, you cheated, and that's fucked up, but that doesn't mean the rest of your life has to be shitty and miserable as some kind of penance."

"It wasn't just cheating. It was an affair. We had an anniversary."

"My point still stands."

"Do you think..." Geddy trails off, as though unwilling to see that one through to the end.

"Hm? Talk to me."

Geddy takes a moment before he does. "Do you think someone could be with me after what I've done?"

 _I could,_ Alex wants to say. _I would. I'll cherish you and make you laugh and never forget your birthday and always tell you how much you mean to me._

What he says instead is: "Of course. You're great. Every relationship is different, and you'd be coming into the next one wiser and more experienced. You know where the trapdoors are."

"'Once a cheater, always a cheater.'"

"I don't think that's necessarily true."

"Charlene had an affair," Geddy says carefully, as though loathe to reopen the wound.

"It's easier to forgive in the abstract, when you're not the one who's been hurt."

"You wouldn't be afraid they'd do it again?"

"Depends on the person. But you're so remorseful it's heartbreaking. When was the last time you even had a date?"

Geddy stays suspiciously quiet.

"You seriously haven't dated since the divorce?" Alex doesn't know why he's surprised by that. "Of course not. Look, if you haven't even had a date in five years, I doubt you'll be a repeat offender. And any smart woman will see that too."

Alex thinks that's as good an answer as any, so why does Geddy still look so troubled?

* * *

The hotel is one of the nicest-looking buildings Alex has ever been in, though it's not much to look at from the outside. Warm tones and colors saturate the lobby and reception area, with tropical greens courtesy of flower bouquets and plastic trees. Everything is written in French, so Alex is thankful to have Geddy's fluency along for the ride.

Their room is somewhat on the conservative side, but Alex doesn't mind. The view from the window provides a stunning outlook of Olympic Stadium, where the Expos host home games. There's only one huge bed and a couple flimsy chairs which don't look comfortable to sleep in. Would it be weird if they shared the bed?

"This place is awesome," Alex says, flopping onto the bed and moving his limbs like he's making a snow angel. "Y'know there's a bar downstairs?"

"Probably not as good as ours."

"It's still something. In case tonight gets too intense and you have to bail."

Geddy stops unpacking his suitcase, looking at Alex. "You wouldn't think less of me?"

"No way. You haven't seen these people in, what, five years? So it's a toss-up between not giving a shit anymore and being nervous. I wouldn't judge you."

"I almost didn't want to come," Geddy says after a moment. "But I thought not showing up would make some sort of statement I wasn't sure I wanted to make. Then again, being here does too, so I'm kinda screwed."

Alex props himself up on his elbows. "Well, hey, they're giving you an award, right? So you didn't burn too many bridges."

"It's not really the ball club I'm worried about."

"If things get too intense, just let me know, and we'll bail. No questions asked."

"Really? You're sure?"

"I said no questions asked." Alex grins and actually gets a smile in return from Geddy, and he thinks his heart might burst.

* * *

The evening's ceremony takes place in an enormous ballroom in the hotel. The guests' wedding bands and gold watches shimmer like stars under the soft yellow lights. All around are the sounds of clinking glass and silverware against china, the low murmur of conversations.

Alex spots a buffet table, so that's where he goes first, eagerly loading up a plate full of food. Geddy finds his reserved table, and Alex follows, sitting beside him in one of the five available chairs. It occurs to Alex that the rest of these seats belong to Geddy's ex-wife and children, and he is terrified at the idea of meeting them.

"Maybe they won't come," Geddy says, as though reading Alex's mind.

"Did you invite them?"

"Of course I did. But mostly as a courtesy..."

"Do you think they'll come?"

Geddy shrugs. "Nancy doesn't hate me the way she should. It's almost like she's forgiven me. The kids hate me, but they're teenagers, so that's what they do best. They were young enough when it happened to absorb Nancy's bitterness. She grew out of it, they grew into it."

"They'll grow out of it, too," Alex says. "They're your family. They can't hate you forever."

"Well, we'll see about that," Geddy murmurs, glancing over Alex's head briefly before plastering on a fake smile. "Nancy, you look lovely. Thank you for coming."

Alex whirls to see Nancy and Geddy's teenaged children approaching the table. "We had an anniversary here, remember?" Nancy says, sitting in an empty chair beside him. She has long blonde hair styled into loose curls. Her elegant dress is a deep, royal blue. "The year after you got signed to the Expos."

Alex realizes coming here at all was a huge step for Geddy.

Geddy's kids play a surreptitious game of musical chairs with the remaining two seats. The loser, a blonde girl who's almost a carbon copy of her mother (save for the conservative black dress), ends up sitting beside Alex. The boy, basically a short-haired version of Geddy himself, claims the seat beside Nancy.

"So, um, guys, this is my friend Alex," Geddy says, introducing him to the table. He still has yet to look any of them in the eye. "Alex, this is Nancy, my son Julian and daughter Kyla."

"It's so great to meet you!" Alex says, because someone has to start injecting some positivity here. "Geddy's told me so much about you all, in that you have names and you exist. So fill in the blanks! Tell me all about yourselves."

"Don't try so hard. It's embarrassing," Kyla mutters.

"You first, Alex," Nancy says sweetly. "How long have you known Geddy?"

"A month or two? He's a regular at the bar where I work."

"You promised you were gonna stop going there," Julian says, glaring at Geddy.

"Julian, not now," Nancy warns, though she doesn't sound like she really cares either way. She turns her attention to Alex. "Alex, join me at the dessert table?"

"Well, I can't say no to dessert!" Alex chuckles, pushing away from the table and following Nancy.

Lingering by the trays of brownies and cobbler, Nancy lowers her voice and asks, "So, you and Geddy, huh?"

It takes him a moment to realize what the fuck she's talking about, because it never seemed like a possibility outside of Alex's own head. "What? Oh, no, no, we're not a couple. At least, I don't think we are. He probably would have said something if we were dating." Alex manages a nervous laugh. His neck is suddenly warm, his pulse racing.

What if both of them are awful at this, and they've been secretly dating this whole time?

Alex glances over his shoulder for a quick look at Geddy, then turns his head before his reconaissance can be spotted. "No, no way. Geddy's not..."

Alex should probably reevaluate his entire relationship with Geddy.

"Is he?"

"I found out the hard way," Nancy says with a soft, regretful half-smile. "For what it's worth, you're the first person he's been serious about since the divorce."

Alex shakes his head, trying to clear it. "C'mon, you're joking, right? Geddy's not interested in me. Look at me!"

Nancy lifts an eyebrow, as though questioning Alex's sanity. "He invited you as a plus-one to an awards ceremony where he's a guest of honor, knowing full well his family and"—her mouth gets a nasty curl to it—"someone who shall remain nameless would show up."

Zoinks.

Alex can't figure out her angle here. Is she trying to trick them in a hilarious sitcom-esque way via an awkward misunderstanding? Or does Nancy genuinely want them to be happy together?

"This is really hard to believe."

"I know, but he wasn't always like this. After the divorce, something broke inside of him and he just stopped."

"Stopped what?"

"Everything." Nancy glances at Geddy, looking pained by whatever she sees. "But dating you is the first sign of positive progress I've seen from him in five years."

"He's not dating me."

"He wouldn't have brought you here if he wasn't at least interested in dating you," Nancy says.

Alex takes another quick glance back at Geddy. He can find a tactful, covert way to ask if Geddy's interested in him, right?

Alex finds his opportunity ten minutes later when Geddy flees the ballroom for a smoke break outside. They lean against the side of the building, staring out at the giant, looming stadium. The night air is crisp and cold, a slight breeze blowing Alex's wild strands of hair across his forehead.

Geddy digs into the pockets of his blazer for a lighter. He flicks it on, and the flame shudders.

"Pretty intense in there, huh?" Alex says, suddenly tongue-tied.

"You have no idea."

Alex chuckles. "You never told me Nancy was such a jokester. She actually thinks we're a couple. Isn't that a riot?"

Geddy's mouth drops open. He manages to catch his cigarette as it falls from his gaping lips. "What?"

Alex can't tell from Geddy's expression if he's appalled or surprised. "Should I not have brought that up?"

"No, I'm not offended or anything, just... shocked she would say that to you."

"Was she not particularly brazen during your marriage?"

"Not like that."

_Stop being a chickenshit and just ask._

Alex takes a moment or two to gather his courage. Geddy takes a long, deep drag, exhales.

"I guess I can kinda see where she's coming from," Alex starts, because of course he's going to couch his real question amongst a bunch of nervous drivel. "You and are I pretty close, and I'm still confused why you invited me."

"I told you: emotional support."

"You could've brought anyone for that."

"I don't have anyone else. It's just you."

Alex doesn't know how to feel about that, if he's been relegated to best friend status simply because there's no competition.

Geddy takes another drag, like this conversation is stressing him out.

_Just go for it._

Alex says, "So, do you think she had a reason to say that, or was she just playing some weird joke on me?"

Geddy takes another puff and drops his cigarette to the concrete, stubbing it out with his shoe. "She shouldn't have said that to you."

Geddy's tone is like a slamming door, and Alex feels an iron fist squeeze inside his chest.

"Bringing you here was a mistake."

The world crumbles beneath Alex's feet, but there's nothing to hold onto.

"If you wanna go home, I'll pay for your flight or cab."

"Wait, wha—no! Do you want me to leave, or do you think I wanna leave?"

Geddy doesn't answer, just pulls open the door and disappears inside the hotel.

Alex stands there, bewildered and broken and wondering what the fuck even is his life. Why is Geddy the way that he is?

So it was a mistake to bring Alex here? Why, exactly? Did Geddy finally notice how obnoxious Alex is? Or did he realize he might have given Alex the wrong impression by inviting him? Then how hard is it to just say 'I'm not attracted to guys' or even 'I'm not attracted to _you'_? Alex doesn't care if the reason is horrible and totally gutting. He would appreciate the honesty, the closure.

What Geddy's given him here is bullshit, and Alex is infuriated that he's just supposed to accept it.

He thought they were making progress, like they were at a place where Geddy could feel safe being honest with him. And Geddy seemed like he was making an effort by inviting Alex, and during that short, sacred moment when Geddy actually admitted to liking things about him, so Alex doesn't understand how he can be like that one minute and then just shut down the next.

He is dimly aware of the cold night air chilling the wetness in his eyes, on his cheeks. Should he go back to Charlene and try to mend his broken marriage? At least Charlene was upfront about the laundry list of Alex's defects. He could lose weight, cut his hair, get a better job, mold himself into a decent facsimile of the man she married twenty years ago. He could be happy with that, right?

Maybe the last month and a half was Alex's lame attempt at a mid-life crisis. He fell in love and got his heart broken, just like Selena said he would, and this is the part where he's supposed to come crawling back to Charlene wiser and humbled, the prodigal son (husband?) returning home. She will undoubtedly gloat that he's been hoisted on the petard of his own burgeoning bisexuality, but will most likely accept him back into her life. This is the best he can hope for, a return to the drudgery of the status quo.

No new, exciting life for Alex.

Frustrated and confused and disheartened, he slinks inside the hotel and finds the bar.


	6. Animate Me

Alex staggers back to the hotel room two hours later, alcohol toasting his veins. The blinds are open to reveal a night sky glistening with excitement and promise. Toronto glistens, too. Ottawa isn't the only city in the world. The only reason he stayed there was for Geddy anyway, and now that bridge seems to be burned.

If Geddy wants to be an immature asshole, fine. But Alex isn't leaving without talking about this.

He gathers his stray belongings from around the room and stuffs them into his duffel bag. Best to be already packed in case Geddy really wants him to leave.

As he's zipping up the bag, he hears muffled voices in the hallway. One of the voices sounds familiar, and it's only when they get closer does he recognize it: Geddy.

There's a thump against the door, like someone being pushed against it, then: "Shit, lemme get the door first," Geddy says with a purr of arousal.

Is Geddy hooking up with Nancy? Alex didn't hear a female voice, but he's been wrong before.

The bathroom doesn't have a proper enclosure, just a murky glass shower door, so the only hiding place Alex has is inside the coat closet. He grabs his bag and shuts himself inside the closet, cloaked in darkness.

He hears the front door click open, then the sounds of heavy breathing and clothes being rustled, then Geddy's making soft little noises Alex has only dreamed of.

"You're so fucking hot," a male voice breathes out, and, oh, so Geddy _is_ attracted to men, just not Alex. Awesome. Great to know. There was probably a tactful way to relay that message, Geddy, instead of skipping out like an asshole, but whatever. You do you.

Geddy moans a sound that twists Alex up in knots. The bed creaks, and Alex hears kissing and muffled groans and Geddy's quiet gasps. Alex isn't sure he wants to be here for this. On one (sticky) hand, he gets to hear Geddy make the sexiest noises in the entire fucking world, and his imagination can fill in the blanks, unless Geddy's partner is one of those guys who gives play-by-plays during sex like a bad porn star.

But on the other hand, does Alex really want to hear any of that on the heels of his own rejection? It seems masochistic to willfully listen to the sex noises he's never going to pull out of Geddy. But it's not like Alex has a choice unless he wants to step out of the closet and immediately make everything a million times more awkward.

Geddy moans a desperate sound, and Alex's cock strains against his pants. Fuck. Would it be weird to jerk off now? He could be in here for hours, and it's unreasonable to expect him to keep his hands to himself that long, especially with how vocal Geddy is. Of course quiet, stoic Geddy would be noisy in bed.

Geddy gasps, then there's the sound of a zipper, and Geddy moans like he's dying.

Someone chuckles. "How long has it been?" the other man asks.

Geddy's shaking his way through a groan, and Alex can't help but edge the heel of his palm against the outline of his cock, just for some friction. This isn't Alex's first time rubbing one out while thinking of Geddy, but it _is_ the first time Geddy's been in the same room while Alex does it.

He's reaching new levels of sexual debauchery tonight.

"Wait, wait," Geddy huffs out, and Alex hears the way his pulse jumps and makes his voice all shaky. "John, stop, gimme a minute."

So Geddy's partner is a John, huh? Alex is offended that Geddy—beautiful, perfect chestnut-haired unicorn that he is—would hook up with some guy named John. John is the most vanilla name in the entire universe, and Geddy is curiously and ambiguously ethnic. Oil and water.

Then again, Alex isn't that great of a name either. But his God-given surname is an obstacle course of vowels and consonants, so it still counts, damn it.

More kissing sounds, at which Alex frowns intensely. Then John says, "Shit, I've been dying to see you."

"Why didn't you?" Geddy asks between kisses.

"Didn't think you wanted to see me."

"Well, you did pretty much ruin my life," Geddy says, devoid of flirtation and lust.

Alex perks up.

Now that's intriguing.

John sighs. "I know, and I'm so sorry. I was an asshole back then. I probably still am. But not enough to do that again."

The bed creaks, and Geddy makes a soft, contemplative sound that Alex knows very well.

"Who's the guy you came with?" John asks.

Alex's heart jackhammers in his chest. He is very aware of his own breathing, loud and muggy in the confines of the closet; he hopes he's the only one.

"Were you spying on me?" Geddy says.

"I bumped into Nancy. She asked if I met your new boy-toy yet. Her words, not mine. I guess she was trying to rub it in my face. So who is he? Is it serious?"

Alex holds his breath, waiting for Geddy's soft reply.

"He's not—We're not... It's none of your business anyway."

But John is more willing to press the matter. "I'd like to know what I'm up against. Is his cock bigger than mine?"

Geddy makes an exasperated noise. "Why are you like this?" he says, like he's not expecting an answer.

"Don't try to change the subject."

Geddy gasps a tiny sound, as though touched with cold fingers. "Look, it doesn't matter. We're not anything anymore. He left."

Does Alex actually hear the sadness in Geddy's voice, or is he putting it there out of wish-fulfillment?

"But you brought him here. Seems like you like him."

Geddy sighs, and the mattress shifts again. "It doesn't matter if I do," he finally says after a moment. "He's too good, too kind, too loving. It would just be a matter of time before I let him down. He'd see the ugliness inside of me, and he'd leave anyway."

Geddy, you brilliant, sweet, fucked-up mess.

"You love him," John says with a teasing smile in his voice.

"I loved you."

"We were good together. We could have that again, without the complications."

"You screwed me over," Geddy reminds him.

"I know, and I'll never stop being sorry. If you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Geddy sighs, and, yes, Alex can tell it's him. "And I'll spend the rest of my life wondering when you'll hurt me again."

"Seems a little hypocritical, doesn't it?"

"What?"

"You'll hold this against me forever, but if you were with someone new you'd probably want them to overlook your affair."

So John's kind of a dick.

"It's easier to forgive in the abstract," Geddy says.

John makes a contemplative noise. "You don't have to figure anything out right now. I've got some great hash up in my room. Why don't we just have fun, no pressure, just like old times?"

"Alright," Geddy says after a moment. Then they're kissing again, their hungry noises growing fainter, and the door clicks open and shut when they leave, and Alex feels a hole in his gut, like he's been cheated on again, which is ridiculous because Geddy was never his to begin with.

He waits in the closet for a few moments before warily edging the door open. The room is empty. Alex sits on the edge of the bed, heat rising up in his chest as he tries to process this jumble of new, confusing information.

John, it seems, is the other party in Geddy's extramarital affair. Which lines up with why Nancy thought Alex was Geddy's date: she already knew about Geddy's sexual interest in men.

How did John "ruin" Geddy's life? By being complicit in the affair? Could John have cheated on Geddy? Neither of those hold up under scrutiny, but Geddy's behavior isn't exactly beholden to logic.

It seems, however, that Geddy still has feelings for John, or at least a craving for hash and a good time. Alex can't really blame him.

The most important question to be asked is this: Does Geddy have non-platonic feelings for Alex? He ducked and weaved around a proper answer, and if Geddy truly loved John, wouldn't he want to dispel any notions of another man in his life? And there's no way Geddy could have known Alex was in the room; all of Alex's belongings were packed up, his bag and body hidden in the coat closet. So what would be the point of being evasive unless Geddy was uncomfortable with the truth?

 _You love him_ , John said. The correct response, if Geddy had nothing to hide, would be, "No, I don't." Hell, he could've lied and said it anyway, but maybe John's bullshit detector is finely tuned to Geddy's frequencies and would have sensed falsehood.

About a minute has elapsed since Geddy and John left the room, and Alex's mind cannot adjust to this suddenly transformed world where Geddy might have romantic or sexual feelings for him. He's imagined it, of course, but in the abstract with no real clarity, the way you imagine dying or winning the lottery.

Even if Geddy spends the night with John—something Alex tries very hard not to think about—he'll have to come back here for his suitcase. When he does, Alex will make sure they talk about this.

He takes a quick shower, already fading fast as the stultifying effects of the alcohol take hold, and promptly dozes off as soon as his head hits the pillow.


	7. Complicate Me

Alex wakes up in a panic, because it's morning and he has missed Geddy's re-entry to the room.

Except, no, he hasn't, because Geddy is right in front of him, brewing a cup of coffee. His hair is tied back, and he's wearing the same white shirt and dark slacks from last night, but they look rumpled. Like they spent some time on the floor.

Uncomfortable with that train of thought, Alex sits up in the bed and makes a quiet noise to let Geddy know he's awake.

Geddy glances over his shoulder. "I thought you left last night."

"I thought about it. But I didn't wanna leave things like that. It's probably better if we talk about whatever's bothering you."

"Oh," Geddy says tersely. He takes a long drink of coffee, a patented Geddy Lee stall tactic.

Alex slides out of bed and politely nudges Geddy aside so he can brew himself a cup. "Move over, idiot. I'm thirsty, too."

Geddy makes a quiet sound of amusement—nothing like the noises Alex heard from him last night. Speaking of last night...

On the side of Geddy's neck is a small red blemish, in the same spot Alex has often dreamed about latching his mouth.

"I waited up for you," Alex says, slowly circling the airport of the conversation they should be having. "But I fell asleep before you came back."

"I just got in a few minutes ago," Geddy admits, cradling his coffee cup in his hands like a baby bird. He sits in the chair beside the window and stares at the inside of the cup. Or at the patterned carpet that makes Alex dizzy if he stares at it too long.

"Oh. Wild night?"

"I guess."

There really isn't a tactful way to pose this question, because underneath the politeness is the selfish reason he's asking. But there's no time like the present, and Alex thinks he deserves an answer that isn't all evasiveness and ambiguity.

"So who's John?"

Geddy's fingers noticeably tighten around the mug. "I can't believe Nancy told you."

She didn't, but that's a better explanation than 'I was hiding in the closet when you two had a furious make-out (and possibly groping) session on the bed.'

"She didn't tell me everything, but I think I figured out most of it. He's the guy you had the affair with, right?" Alex takes a sip of his coffee, just needing something to do with his hands. "And you broke it off with him... Why?"

Geddy looks up at him. "How do you know he didn't dump me?"

Alex shrugs. "Intuition."

"I decided I couldn't leave my family. The whole thing was so stupid, and I was an idiot to step out in the first place."

"But you did. Why? There had to be a reason."

Geddy squirms in his chair, and Alex feels sorry for him, but this is something they need to talk about. "I had needs Nancy couldn't satisfy. John and I got along pretty well anyway, so when he started flirting with me I didn't stop him. At first it was just physical, but then there were... feelings."

Feelings: Geddy's arch-nemesis.

Alex takes another drink, decides coffee's not worth drinking without sugar and cream. He sets the mug on the table and sits on the edge of the bed. Looming over Geddy probably isn't very soothing.

"Sometimes we would talk about being together for real, but it was the same way you'd talk about what you'd do if you had superpowers. Hypothetical. He never pressured me, but towards the end I felt like he resented me for dragging my feet."

"How long were you together?"

"A year," Geddy admits lowly.

"How did Nancy find out? Did you tell her?"

Geddy chuckles a nasty, sad sound. "John did. With evidence."

"I'm sorry, what?" Alex's brain has already processed the horrible implications, but his soul is still in denial, because there's no way...

Geddy takes another drink, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. "He liked to take pictures. And videos. Of us. Of me. I didn't—I should've known that would come back and bite me in the ass, but he had just as much to lose as I did."

"He was married, too?"

Geddy shakes his head. "We were teammates. He played catcher after we got him in a trade with the Jays in '87."

Alex's snicker turns into a snorting guffaw.

Geddy gives him a look that could spoil milk.

"I'm sorry, but you're a filthy liar if you two didn't laugh about the pitcher-catcher dynamic at least once."

The corner of Geddy's mouth twitches into the makings of a tiny smirk. "I'm going to throw this on you now," he says, referring to the coffee, but he gets up and sets the mug on the table.

Geddy is a master at diverting conversation away from the pressure points, and it takes Alex a moment to remember how they got here. "You said he sent her evidence?"

Geddy nods. "It must have incriminated him, too. Nancy could have gone public and destroyed both of us. But she had the kids to think about, and John probably knew that. So his career was safe."

Jesus, Geddy's life is a fucking tragedy. He has an affair but goes back to his family, then John destroys him in one fell swoop, because if he can't have Geddy then neither will Nancy. And Geddy hates himself enough to go back to John and probably get hurt over and over, because he thinks he deserves it.

"He sounds like a dick," Alex says.

And just when Alex doesn't think Geddy can find new and terrible ways to sadden him, he does. "I strung him along. I mean, we kept talking about making a life together, but I don't think I had any real intentions of leaving Nancy and the kids."

"Did you spend last night with him?" Alex hates how that sounds in his own ears, like he's an overprotective parent. "Did he give you that?" He points to the hickey on Geddy's neck, and Geddy hides it with his hand.

Geddy doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to.

Alex groans, flopping back on the bed. "Ugh, Geddy, your bad decisions will literally be the death of me. My obituary will read, 'Alex Lifeson died today of complications regarding Geddy Lee's poor life choices.'"

Geddy manages a small smile, though there's an edge of sadness to it.

Alex slides off the bed and moves toward Geddy. "Ged, you're brilliant and amazing and funny and now that I know you're into guys I can say you're super-hot without making you uncomfortable. You deserve so much better than some jerk who ruined your marriage and your career 'cause he couldn't handle rejection."

Geddy's cheeks flush under Alex's praise. He glances away, unable to look at him. "He didn't ruin my marriage. I did."

"And you've suffered enough. You should be with someone who respects you and thinks you're the greatest human being alive."

Geddy huffs. "Where am I gonna find someone that crazy?"

"I dunno, maybe the big idiot who moved to Ottawa 'cause he has a crush on you?"

Geddy's brow creases in disbelief, and before Alex can make a move Geddy's kissing him, fingers wrapped in the front of his t-shirt to pull him closer. Geddy's mouth is velvet smooth and tastes of coffee, and Alex wants to freeze this perfect moment so he can live in it forever.

This is really happening. God, Alex has waited so long for this. And Geddy probably has too, because he's kissing Alex like he never wants to stop. Alex winds his arms around Geddy's waist, his hands drifting to the shape of his perfect ass. Geddy moans into Alex's mouth, his hips rocking forward, and Alex makes a tiny noise when he feels the teasing brush of Geddy's erection against his thigh.

Alex has kissed the same woman for twenty years, and the difference between Charlene and Geddy is immensely laughable. Geddy's skin is raspy and warm, and when his tongue licks inside Alex's mouth, Alex feels hot and buzzing.

Alex tugs the tie from Geddy's ponytail and secures it around his wrist. Geddy's hair falls across his shoulders, smelling like shampoo. Alex gets his hands full of it, damp and fresh. Geddy never takes his mouth off Alex's own, but he does drift a hand down to where Alex is tented in his boxers. His touch is teasing and gentle, but it's the most exciting thing Alex's cock has experienced in a long time.

"Shit," Alex gasps around Geddy's mouth. "Ged, I can't promise I'll last very long."

"Good, 'cause I've waited long enough." Geddy pulls Alex's t-shirt over his head. Pinpricks of anxiety spread through Alex's belly, and he is momentarily paralyzed by the notion that Geddy might reconsider this once he sees the sad, jiggly reality lurking underneath Alex's clothes.

But Geddy doesn't seem to care, because he nudges Alex back, deposits him neatly on the mattress. Alex goes easily, his entire body thrumming with need. Geddy claims his mouth again, and Alex unbuttons Geddy's shirt, which is a simple task because only three of the buttons are fastened. Geddy shrugs out of the sleeves, lets the shirt drop over the side of the bed, and Alex goes to work on his pants next, eager to have him naked.

What he gets is even better. Alex might actually groan, "Oh my God," into Geddy's mouth when he sees that perfect ass snugly wrapped in a pair of black boxer-briefs. Alex feels the curve of Geddy's mouth against his own, the void of separation when their lips break apart because Geddy's grinning too hard.

He actually did it. He got a real, genuine smile out of Geddy.

Alex's heart soars and sings.

Geddy drops kisses down the line of Alex's body, kneeling when he reaches the foot of the bed. His nimble fingers work Alex's cock out of the flap of his boxers, and suddenly Geddy's mouth is hot and wet around him.

Alex never particularly enjoyed oral sex before, mostly because Charlene wasn't very fond of giving it. Which struck Alex as unfair since he went above and beyond in giving it to her. But Geddy is nothing like Charlene. He is brazen and experienced and a huge fucking tease, swallowing Alex to the root and offering a wet drag of tongue over his balls, then sliding his lips back up to the swollen head. So Alex doesn't feel too bad when, without warning, he orgasms and splatters long white ribbons on Geddy's cheek and in his hair.

Hey, Alex warned him.

Geddy lifts his head and tries to glare at Alex, looking like the end result of a bukkake porno, and, wow, that's a really arousing image and Alex kind of likes it.

"Sorry," Alex says around a soft huff of laughter. "But I told you I wasn't gonna last long."

"It's been a while since that's happened to me." Geddy tries to catch the jizz with his thumb, but there's way too much, and most of it ended up in his hair. He stands up and walks to the bathroom, giving Alex a commendable view of his ass before he disappears around the corner.

"Ugh, you have the most perfect, amazing butt," Alex groans, scooting over to the other side of the bed. He thinks he might be able to see Geddy standing at the sink in the full-length mirror on the wall. And he totally can. Jackpot. "Is there an award for Most Perfect Ass in baseball? Because that's what you should've won last night."

"Last night was the Expos Hall of Fame ceremony," Geddy corrects over the blasting faucet. He bends over the sink, splashes water on his face. "No awards. Just honors."

"Oh shit! Should I have been there? I thought you didn't want me there, but maybe you did?"

"It's okay. It wasn't a big deal anyway. It's nice that they honored me, but that part of my life is over."

"Why, 'cause of John? Don't give him the power to ruin all your good memories with the team."

Geddy shuts off the water, dries his face with a hand towel. "Sometimes a bad experience can spoil you on something you used to love. Can you look back on your happy memories with Charlene without any bitterness over how it turned out?"

"Maybe not now, but in five years, who knows?"

"Why don't we forget about the past right now?" Geddy pushes the hair out of his face as he walks back to Alex. He climbs onto the bed, his knees on either side of Alex's hips, and folds over him. "I have you in my bed, and we don't have to check out 'till noon," Geddy murmurs against Alex's mouth.

Alex claims Geddy's lips, a hand sneaking to the back of his neck, underneath the thick mane of his hair. Alex's other hand travels down the valley of Geddy's spine, curving over his ass, which he squeezes once (okay, twice) before finding his cock, hard and hot in his underwear. Geddy whines at the careful, feather-light touch of Alex's hand. Alex strokes him through the fabric, gently squeezing the tantalizing outline of his dick. Geddy rolls his hips and makes a breathy sound around their kisses.

"Stick your hand in there," Geddy begs. "Touch me."

Alex doesn't know why, but he really wants to get Geddy off this way. Direct skin-to-skin contact would spoil the magic. "Like this?" Alex rubs the heel of his palm against Geddy's balls, and Geddy sucks in a breath, his hips shoving into Alex's hand.

Geddy wriggles, shifting his body so he can support his weight on one arm. His other hand tugs at the waistband of his underwear, but Alex grabs his wrist to stop him.

"Leave 'em on," Alex says, amused by Geddy's impatience. Geddy makes a noise of frustration and moves so he's straddling Alex's hips, which works better for both of them, because Alex can touch him easier, and each time Geddy moves he grinds his balls against Alex's stomach.

All Alex can think of is that this is how Geddy would look riding his cock, and suddenly his own dick is nudging to life, ready and reporting for duty. Alex admires the shape of Geddy's cock tenting in the fabric, traces a fingertip along its length to the wet spot where precum has leaked from the head. Geddy's making sexier noises than he did last night, which Alex didn't think was even possible, and the fact that he's the one causing them is blowing his mind right now.

Geddy's body is taut and perfect with just a bit of pudge, thatches of hair covering his chest, bisecting his stomach, disappearing into his boxer-briefs. "You are so perfect," Alex breathes, and he has thought this a thousand times, but this is the first time he's said it out loud.

Alex gets a handful of him and squeezes, and Geddy's shaking and rocking his hips and groaning in a way Alex has only dreamed of. He palms Geddy lightly through the comedown, his other hand rubbing over the hard muscle of Geddy's thigh. Geddy says Alex's name, breathlessly, and it's one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

When the shaking subsides, Geddy slumps over Alex, dropping onto the mattress in the empty space beside him and squeezing his thighs together to wring out the remaining pulses of his orgasm. Alex shifts, turning on his side so he's facing Geddy, and throws an arm around him.

"God, I'm so stupid," Geddy says through giggles. "We could've been doing this the whole time."

Alex grins, ecstatic that Geddy's actually smiling and laughing and doesn't look like he's dying on the inside. "Why didn't you tell me how you felt?" He already knows the answer, but he wants to see what Geddy will say.

"'Cause you're too good for me. Everything you've done for me is just... beyond what I deserve. Your smile is so brilliant it's like staring into the sun."

"I can't take credit for that; I use really great toothpaste."

Geddy laughs.

"So what changed your mind? Last night, I tried—in my own clumsy way—to see if you wanted to date me, and you said it was all a mistake. And then you slept with John..."

"After everything that happened with John and Nancy and the divorce, I went numb. And I lived like that for so long I almost forgot what it felt like to actually feel something. But then you showed up, and I wasn't numb anymore. I actually wanted something. Someone. But you were right; I was punishing myself 'cause I thought it was noble, a way to pay for my mistakes. And you kept pushing and telling me I didn't have to live like that."

"I'm pretty persistent," Alex says.

"I spent the night with John 'cause I felt like I deserved him. But when I woke up this morning I hated myself. I wished I'd woken up beside you instead of him. So I decided to be selfish and go after you. I thought you'd tell me to go screw myself after how I treated you last night, but you just said the same things I'd been telling myself on the way up to this room. And I thought if this amazing guy actually likes me, then maybe we should be together."

"Now you know I'm right about everything and you should never doubt me."

Geddy smiles and moves in to kiss him.

Alex cups Geddy's ass. "I had a crush on you back when you were pitching. I didn't know you or anything, I just thought you had a really great butt I enjoyed staring at while you were on the mound."

"So you had a crush on my butt, not me."

"Semantics." Alex smirks. "But when Charlene was on her pregnancy kick, before we knew I was shooting blanks, she'd want me to have sex with her every night, and on nights when I just wasn't feeling it, I sort of... pictured myself having sex with you."

Geddy probably shouldn't be laughing at that, but, hey, as long as he's happy.

"And that's how I realized I wasn't totally straight."

Geddy slides a hand up to the side of Alex's face, throws a leg over his hip to bring him closer. "That's a really hot story. But instead of telling me how you wanted to fuck me, why don't you show me?"

Alex is totally, one hundred percent down for that. "Yes, absolutely. Did you bring condoms? Or lube? Or... something?"

Geddy pouts. "Damn it, no. I didn't think I'd get laid on this trip."

"John did."

"Because he's a greasy sleazeball who plans for this kind of stuff."

Alex's fingers find a nipple, and he discovers another kind of sound he can pull out of Geddy. "There's a gift shop downstairs, right?"

"They sell keychains and t-shirts to tourists, not intimacy aids."

"They should. Tourists get super-horny." Alex eases his hand down Geddy's back and into his underwear, finds the spot that makes Geddy's breath shake out in rough bursts, and shows him there's things they can do together that don't require lube.


	8. Elevate Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! Remember to try the fanmix! http://8tracks.com/sodium-amytal/1-9-9-3

The drive back to Ottawa is basically a two-hour long foreplay session, with Alex rubbing Geddy's thigh at stop lights until Geddy pulls over somewhere past the provincial line and lets Alex give him a quick utilitarian orgasm through his jeans.

"Can you just wait, please?" Geddy begs afterward, his voice shaky and breathless as he pulls onto the road again. "At least 'til we get in my driveway."

"I'd love to get in your driveway," Alex says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Alex, I swear to God!"

Alex snickers and settles back in his seat. "Alright, alright, I'll be good. I promise."

Alex keeps his hands to himself until they're through the door of Geddy's home, then all bets are off. "Upstairs. Now," he growls against Geddy's throat, clutching at his slender hips.

Geddy hums a happy sound and pulls Alex's t-shirt over his head.

They take the staircase, shedding clothes as they go, shoes and jeans and t-shirts scattered along the stairs like war wounded. Geddy's breathing hot noises of encouragement around and against Alex's mouth, his hands everywhere at once, like he never wants to stop touching him.

"What do you want, baby?" Geddy asks through their kisses, guiding him into the bedroom. "Tell me what you like."

"You." Alex opens his eyes to take in the sight, because he's never been in Geddy's room, but before he can look around Geddy's tipping him over the edge of the bed.

"I mean in bed," Geddy says, biting at Alex's neck, tongue dipping into the hollow of his throat. His hand tugs Alex's boxers down his hips before encircling his cock.

Alex groans, his dick swelling at Geddy's touch. "Same answer."

Geddy kisses his way down Alex's body, flicks his tongue over his nipples—which Alex is surprised to find that he likes—presses kisses along the tender skin of his inner thighs. Alex squirms and whimpers, because Geddy is a goddamn tease and the heat of his breath is _so close_...

"Inside me," Alex chokes out, and Geddy actually stops, his fingers going tight where they're wrapped around Alex's thighs. "Put your cock in me, Ged."

"Jesus," Geddy breathes over his skin, a needy, desperate edge in his voice. "You sure?"

"Yes, yes, please," Alex whines, thrusting up into his own fist, because someone needs to touch him right now or he's going to die.

Geddy rummages through the nightstand drawer for the lube. When he returns to the bed, Alex gleefully hooks his fingers in the waistband of Geddy's underwear and tugs them down his thighs. "Even your cock is perfect," Alex says in awe, getting a hand around him. Geddy's dick is more length than girth, cleanly-cut with an almost button-like head, and Alex knows it's going to feel amazing inside of him.

Geddy pushes his hips into Alex's fist once, twice, before prying Alex's fingers off of him. "I don't wanna come yet," he says, flipping open the cap of the lube bottle and getting his fingers slick. Alex knows what's coming and he can't fucking wait, eagerly wiggling his hips in anticipation.

Geddy teases a slippery finger at his hole, and Alex rolls his hips, trying to encourage Geddy to probe further, because he can take it. He's tried this himself, though his own fingers aren't nearly as satisfying as Geddy's.

"C'mon, don't tease," Alex begs as Geddy opens him up. "You know I don't last very long."

Geddy isn't the champion of sexual stamina either. "Okay, okay," he says, sliding his slippery fist along his own cock. "Turn over."

"You don't wanna look at me?" Alex jokes, rolling onto his stomach. Being naked in this position is a new, exhilarating experience for him, and his dick twitches when Geddy's warm, slick hands wrap around his hips.

"I'll last longer."

The head of Geddy's cock nudges at his entrance, then he's sliding all the way in, and Alex hears himself groan a long, embarrassing noise. It's a weird, full feeling Alex is unfamiliar with, but he can't stop the way his hips hitch back like he wants more.

Carefully, Geddy starts to move inside of him, his body bowed over Alex's back and breathing hot on his spine. He discovers that, when properly fucked, he makes a litany of loud, encouraging noises he can't seem to stop from leaving his mouth. Geddy feels huge inside of him, rocking in and out, slow and deliberate.

Alex pushes into Geddy's thrusts. "You don't have to be gentle," he huffs, and Geddy clutches Alex's hips. "Ged, c'mon, you're not even trying." Alex hiccups around the words when Geddy's cock meets his prostate in a slow drag.

"Sounds like I'm doin' pretty well."

Alex objects to Geddy's ability to form unaffected sentences, so he ruts his hips back, and Geddy makes a broken noise. "Could be better."

Geddy grunts through his teeth like Alex is being unreasonable and braces one hand against the headboard. His pace is harder now, faster, and Alex chokes out an involuntary gasp, his breathing reduced to sharp, shallow sounds as Geddy pounds into him. "'S better," Alex manages to say, everything—even his voice—shaking as his orgasm builds.

Geddy buries a smug chuckle into Alex's shoulder blades, his hips never ceasing, and Alex shudders and shouts and comes, clawing at the pillows. He has never had an orgasm like this, an overwhelming wave of euphoria that rattles him to his bones, to his cells. The world bursts apart like a supernova, and Alex drifts, lost in this transcendent place where time and space are frozen.

Geddy yelps, then he's filling Alex up hot and wet; all Alex can do is groan into the pillows and ride through the twist of arousal in his cock as it strains for a second erection so soon after the first. It feels amazing and hurts like hell and Alex doesn't know whether to jerk it out or ice down his poor balls.

"Ged, fuck," Alex breathes unsteadily when it's over, and Geddy's panting over his spine, his cock soft and slick against the back of Alex's thigh. "I think you actually fucked my brains out."

"I guess we'll never know for sure."

Alex moves so he's lying on his back, dragging Geddy down to kiss him long and slow and deep. He hooks his legs around Geddy's hips and nibbles at his mouth. "Jeez, I can kinda see how John went a little crazy after you broke it off with him. That was awesome. I'd be pissed off too if we couldn't do that anymore."

Geddy's mouth does an adorable pinched half-smile thing that Alex has to kiss. "Our pitcher-catcher dynamic was usually reversed in bed."

Imagining being inside of Geddy already has Alex's cock struggling to achieve another erection. "Shit, that's the hottest thing you've ever said to me."

"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me, Alex?" Geddy says, tempting and teasing.

Alex grinds his dick into Geddy's thigh. "I can't even think of anything I want more. Except maybe lunch. I'm kinda starved."

Geddy laughs a light, airy sound and sits up, tossing his hair back as he gazes down at Alex. "Well, why don't you make us lunch, then maybe I'll let you have me for dessert?" He slides out of Alex's lap in a practiced dismount and winks at Alex over his shoulder.

Alex is transfixed by the sight of Geddy's perfect, naked ass, so it takes him a moment to answer, "God, yes, you're the best."

* * *

_Two days later..._

They're in Alex's bedroom, and Alex is blessed with the sight and sensation of Geddy riding his cock, their hands intertwined as their hips clash. Geddy's making obscene, shuddery noises and praises that Alex finds extremely gratifying for his ego. He is hot and impossibly tight inside, and Alex has no idea how either of them have lasted this long. Stamina is neither of their strong suits, but Geddy has been working with him to make their sessions last longer, bringing him to the brink then slowing down. Alex is almost certain Geddy's endurance techniques qualify as torture, so he's thrilled they're having "normal" sex tonight with no orgasm denial.

Geddy bows over him, his hair pooling on Alex's chest as his hips rock and sway. Alex clutches Geddy's ass, fucking into him until they're both swearing and coming and sighing.

Geddy melts on top of Alex, and they lie there entangled for a moment until a female voice sounds from the doorway: "You boys done?"

"Jesus!" Alex shrieks, drawing up the duvet to cover himself and Geddy.

This is one of those moments where Alex seriously wonders what reality Charlene is living in, because here she is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, a casual witness to her ex-husband's strenuous intercourse with another man, and looking mildly impatient like she's waiting in a long line at the bank.

"You could've knocked," Alex says, his heart racing.

Charlene shrugs. "The door was unlocked. And you've been avoiding my calls." She looks at them for a moment then glances away. "I'll give you a minute to get dressed."

When she closes the door behind her, Geddy says, "So that's Charlene?"

"Yeah."

"She seems... nice." Geddy dismounts, his legs quivering a little when he stands to step into his underwear. "You think she wants you back?"

On one hand, it's not so far-fetched. She might want the comfort and familiarity that came with their marriage. Maybe she's willing to compromise and adopt a child or involve a donor.

But on the other hand, Alex thinks walking in on your ex-husband banging another dude would probably shatter any hopes of reconciliation. If Charlene had come here with the intentions of getting him back, she'd be reading him the riot act right now.

That look on her face... When you've been married for a while, you can occasionally communicate nonverbally. Alex's internal organs freeze up as the realization slams into him.

"Oh fuck," Alex says, sitting up and getting smacked in the face with his own t-shirt as Geddy sorts through the clothes on the floor.

"What?"

"I think—I think I know why she's here." Alex scrambles to put his clothes on, his hands and breath shaking.

Geddy seems to understand. He clutches the front of Alex's shirt, his gaze gentle and warm. "Should I go? This seems like a private thing."

"No, no, Ged, I want you to stay. This isn't—What we're doing—It's not like it was with you and John. We don't have to hide because we're not doing anything wrong. You can stay in here if you want, or go out on the balcony. Everything'll be fine."

Geddy nods, and Alex presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Charlene is waiting at the dining table when Alex steps out. Alex recalls many nights like this in his marriage, coming home to a perturbed Charlene and wondering what the hell he did wrong this time.

"So who is he?" Charlene asks as Alex sits down.

"Oh. His name's Geddy. He used to pitch for the Expos."

Charlene huffs a dark laugh and shakes her head. "I never thought you'd actually do it."

"Do what?"

She gestures to the bedroom in a particularly meaningful way.

"I told you I wasn't totally straight," Alex says.

The bedroom door opens, and Geddy sneaks out to the balcony for a cigarette. Alex watches him until Charlene snaps her fingers in his face.

"Don't ogle him in front of me," she says. "Are you capable of that much?"

"Sorry."

Charlene opens her mouth, stops, starts over, as though reconsidering what she was going to say. "How serious is it? Are you just experimenting, or..."

"I love him." It takes hearing the words from his own mouth for Alex to realize how much he truly cares for Geddy.

"Oh..." Charlene's lips pull into a pout, her brow worried with creases. "Well, maybe I shouldn't—"

"No, you came here to tell me something. What is it? Are you and this guy getting married?"

"No, that's not—" She takes a breath, braces herself. "I'm pregnant."

Alex feels the pow. He'd prepared himself for it, but it still comes as a shock, as though Charlene has just reached across the table and punched him in the chest.

"It's not mine, is it?"

She laughs a small sound. "Alex..."

"Does the father know?"

"Not yet." Charlene plucks at her long, painted nails. "He may not need to know. This is our chance to have a family."

"That's kinda fucked up."

"But that's what you wanted, remember?"

"Yeah, but that was before the separation and your affair and our divorce. Before I met Geddy."

Charlene looks away, twirling a curl of hair around her finger.

"Things are different now," Alex says. "I'm sorry, but you can't just expect me to raise someone else's kid with you after we've gotten divorced."

"Maybe you should take some time to think about it before—"

"There's nothing to think about. I have a new life here. I'm happy."

"Well, maybe if you'd listened the first time I tried to tell you..." Charlene says, affecting her passive-aggressive tone and folding her arms over her chest.

Is this what she had been wanting to tell him over the phone? Oops.

"I think I would've given you the same answer. It's not just about Geddy. Our marriage already wasn't working; that's why we divorced. Adding a kid into the mix wouldn't make things better."

Tears stream down her cheeks, and she tries to blink them away. She turns her head, wiping her red, wet eyes with her fingers. "I don't know why I'm crying. It's not even about us getting back together. I guess I just don't like the idea that we can't 'cause I thought we always could."

Alex gets up and hugs her. "What about the father? Is he still... around?" Charlene nods into Alex's arms. "He's probably a decent guy, right?"

Alex isn't sure a "decent guy" would sleep with a married woman, but he's not discounting the possibility that Charlene lied about her marital status.

"I'll tell him," she says. "Maybe this will be good for us."

"For what it's worth, I think you'll be a great mother," Alex says. "And if you ever need anything, just let me know, okay? I'll do whatever I can."

"Thank you." Charlene hugs him tighter before letting him go. She stands up and wipes her eyes again. "You're a really good guy, Alex."

"Yeah, it's a shame," he chuckles, kissing the top of her head. The scent of her hair immediately reminds him of countless nights spent lying beside her in their bed. He isn't sure if he misses her or just the familiar routine of their marriage.

After Charlene leaves, Alex slides open the balcony door to confer with Geddy. Geddy's staring at the world below, cigarette dangling precariously from his thin fingers. His hair is long and messy, fluttering in the soft breeze.

Geddy turns his head to look at Alex. "Well?"

"She's pregnant."

"Damn." Geddy sighs, taps the skeleton of ash off his cigarette.

"It's not mine."

"I know."

Alex leans on the railing. "That doesn't mean I'm going back."

"But that's what you wanted, right? A family?"

"Ged, I'm in love with you. I'm staying right here."

Geddy stares at him, dumbfounded, like he can't believe anyone could ever love him again. "You have the worst taste in men," he says, scoffing a quiet laugh.

Alex grins and winds his arms around Geddy's tiny waist before capturing his smirky mouth. "So do you."

* * *

_Two weeks later..._

Alex turns forty today, and he is ambivalent. Once you hit twenty-one, people generally stop giving a shit about your birthday unless it's a new set of tens. But forty isn't really worth bragging about. Forty is the beginning of that awkward in-between decade that's too old to be young yet too young to be old. Celebrating it is a waste of cake and paper.

It doesn't help Alex's self-esteem that Geddy defies his age. His career as a baseball player streamlined him, and even with his subtle flaws he's still the epitome of perfection in Alex's eyes.

Alex, however, is well aware of what he looks like, and he can mask some of his extra pounds by dressing in all black like a funeral director, but when the clothes come off he's entirely convinced Geddy's just doing him a favor by fucking him. Charlene stopped having sex with him when he gained weight, and Alex fears Geddy will exhaust this reserve of pent-up sexual frustration then never touch him again.

Geddy ducked out of the bar early today, before Alex even closed up. "I've got some errands to run," he said, sheepishly tucking his hair behind his ears as he slid off the barstool. "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"Sure." Alex tried to disguise his disappointment that he wouldn't be spending his birthday with Geddy.

That was four hours ago. It's nine o'clock, and Alex is draped over his couch watching TV and celebrating his four-decade milestone with a bottle of wine and a tube of raw cookie dough.

The phone rings, and Alex nearly trips over his own feet in the rush to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, stud," Geddy purrs, and Alex takes a deep breath to quell the stirring in his nether regions. "What're you wearing?"

"Boxers and an old t-shirt."

"Sounds sexy."

"Oh yeah, this ketchup stain really spices things up." Alex plucks at his t-shirt, examining the spot. "Or is that blood?"

Geddy simpers a quiet giggle. "I'm wearing those black underwear you like. Why don't you come over and take 'em off?"

"Has anyone ever told you you're a hell of a tease?"

"John did. He called me a lot of things."

"Sexy things, I hope."

"'Slut' isn't sexy, is it?"

Alex twirls the phone cord around his finger. "Say it to me while you're slapping my ass and we'll see where things go."

Geddy laughs. "Well, it is your birthday..." Alex can hear the grin in Geddy's voice, and it makes his heart flutter. "You should come over so the party I planned doesn't go to waste."

"You're throwing me a birthday party?"

"I guess that makes it sound like more than it is. It's just you and me, food and presents."

"I like all those things! And no guests means we can have as much sex as we want. And you can be loud without the neighbors complaining."

"Shut up, that happened one time..." Geddy grumbles, and Alex can imagine the way he's blushing right now. "Just get over here before I change my mind."

"I'll put on my special occasions lace thong."

"Don't you dare joke about that."

Alex laughs like a madman and hangs up the phone.

He shows up at Geddy's door half an hour later. He still has a key from his days as Geddy's roommate, but it feels odd using it when they're no longer cohabitating, so he knocks instead. Almost immediately, Geddy pulls open the door, wearing a lazily-buttoned flannel and possibly nothing underneath, his long, toned legs on display.

Alex struggles to keep his tongue in the vicinity of his mouth. "That was fast."

"I heard your car stereo as you pulled in," Geddy says with a smirk.

Alex grins. "Pretty powerful, huh?" He steps inside and pushes his hands under the hem of Geddy's shirt, eager to see what lies beneath.

Geddy makes an irresistible sound and playfully directs Alex's hands away. "Mm, not yet. I've been waiting all day to give you your first present." He nips at Alex's mouth, shutting the door and pushing him against it.

"Oh?" Alex grins through their kisses. His hand drifts down the length of Geddy's body and finds him hard and hot in his underwear. "Gee, I wonder what it could be?" Alex chuckles, fondling Geddy's cock. "Is it a Nintendo?"

"Well, you can play with it..." Geddy expertly shoves Alex's jeans and boxers down to his thighs. "But you'll have to wait." He presses himself close, traces a finger down Alex's stomach, along the length of his dick, to the already-leaking tip. Then his fingernail grazes the underside of Alex's cock, following the bulging vein there, and Alex thinks he might actually die.

Alex shudders in an uncontrollable spasm of sensation, his head dropping back against the door as a shaky groan escapes his throat. "Fuck, Ged, I'm not good at waiting. Either you jerk me off or I will."

"You can do it later while I watch," Geddy says, his voice low and sultry as he kneels at Alex's feet. He swallows him with practiced ease, the head of Alex's dick bumping against the back of Geddy's throat. His mouth is a hot, wet void, and Alex wants to drown in it, get lost here and never find his way back.

"Shit," Alex hisses. His hands clutch in Geddy's hair, and Geddy diligently sucks him off, his mouth locked around the hilt of Alex's cock. Geddy hums around him in long, reverberating moans that rattle Alex's cells like marbles in an earthquake. His nails scrape over Geddy's scalp, and Geddy doesn't even flinch. Geddy's hands settle on Alex's hips, and the unfamiliar sensation of warm hands there makes Alex jerk forward, pushing into Geddy's mouth. Geddy goes with it, his head easing back before swallowing Alex down again.

Alex makes a sharp, surprised noise that's supposed to serve as a warning, because he's incapable of making proper words right now with the way Geddy's tongue is flicking out to tease his balls. His fingers tug at Geddy's hair, and Geddy's mouth slides up to suckle at the swollen head.

This time, Alex keeps his orgasm contained inside Geddy's mouth. He shakes apart, coming with a strangled cry, and Geddy drinks him down like it's all he's ever wanted. Geddy mouths at Alex's tender, softening cock, and Alex ends up gripping the doorknob in his right hand for stability as Geddy makes the most of the aftershocks.

Alex doesn't remember how to make words anymore, just a stream of breathy noises he hopes Geddy can decode. Geddy licks his lips, wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, and, goddamn, that's ridiculously hot. Alex's knees shake like he's just run a marathon.

"Fuck," he finally manages, and that's a pretty decent summary.

"It was either that or a gift card," Geddy says.

Alex huffs a weary laugh. "Cheap bastard."

After Alex regains coherency and drags his pants over his hips, Geddy leads him into the kitchen. A veritable feast is laid out over the table, and it looks as though Geddy actually prepared the food himself instead of ordering in.

"So I'm not a cook," Geddy starts, chuckling self-consciously, "but I hope you'll appreciate the effort. I tasted everything to make sure it won't kill us."

Which explains the small missing slice of... whatever the hell the main course is. It looks like a deep dish pizza with spaghetti inside, the noodles spilling out like entrails.

"Holy shit, is that spaghetti pie?"

"Yeah, I figured if I was gonna be uncreative I shouldn't be lazy." Geddy smirks. "So I made garlic bread and some brownies. I know you're not a huge fan of sweets, but I couldn't resist."

Alex laughs. "Are you joking? I was eating raw cookie dough when you called me." He winds his arms around Geddy's slender waist and pulls him close. "This is the most thoughtful birthday I've had in years. Thank you."

"It doesn't bother you that the food looks like a horrible science experiment?"

"As long as it doesn't taste like one." Alex steals a kiss from Geddy's pouty mouth. "Now shut up and feed me. I'm starved." Geddy huffs laughter, and Alex playfully slaps his ass when he turns to walk into the kitchen.

During dinner Geddy sits beside Alex, his perfect legs crossed, and Alex can't help letting a hand graze over Geddy's bare thigh every once in a while. "Later," Geddy whines after the fifth time Alex's hand drifts. "Don't mix sex and food. It's unsanitary."

"So you and John never explored your whipped cream addiction in the bedroom?"

"No, that's disgusting. If I wanted a mouthful of hair with my food, I'd just eat off the carpet."

Alex snorts amusement into his wine. "I could shave, if that would sweeten the pot."

"No, I like you hairy."

"Really? 'Cause the last time I waxed my chest I won second place in a Fabio look-alike contest."

Geddy is a little tipsy, because he laughs and hides his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he giggles.

"Your laughter wounds me, Ged," Alex says, feigning hurt. "You don't think I could pass for Fabio?"

When Geddy's able to speak again, he says, "Well, you're much sexier."

"Ooh, good save."

"But maybe if you were wearing that special occasions lace thong..."

"I don't actually have a lace thong. I'm sorry I lied to you."

"Hm, that's what I should've gotten you for your birthday."

"That seems more like a present for you than me."

"Okay, Christmas, then."

"Aren't you Jewish?" Alex wonders.

"You're not," Geddy says. "I don't think there's a rule that says I have to celebrate a holiday to give you a gift on it. Especially if that gift is sexy underwear."

"The reason for the season," Alex says with a grin.

"While we're on the subject of gifts..." Geddy takes a long swallow of wine, setting the glass on the table. "I have something else for you."

"Another blowjob? You're spoiling me, babe."

Geddy smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. "Not exactly." He rubs his own leg with a hand. Another of his many nervous gestures. "I wanted to tell you if you decide to go to cooking school or regular university or whatever you wanna do, I'll pay your tuition."

Alex isn't sure he's heard properly, because that's kind of an insane thing to do for someone you've been dating less than a month. "Are you—Really? Ged, that's really kind of you, but why?"

"'Cause I love you," Geddy says, his soft voice even quieter as he fusses with his hair again. "And when we first met you said you always wanted to be a chef. If you want something, you should go for it, and I wanna make that easier for you."

"Wow... Thanks, you're really—" Alex opens his mouth to say something else, but Geddy cuts him off.

"Don't you dare," Geddy interjects with a wry smirk.

"What?"

"You were gonna say I'm a good person, weren't you?"

Alex pouts, because, yeah, he was gonna say that. "Man, do you know me or what?"

Geddy gives him a sweet smile that Alex wants to capture and save forever.

After dessert and the wine are finished, Alex takes Geddy upstairs to show his appreciation. Geddy goes easily, lets Alex spread him open and push his way inside. Alex has already orgasmed once this evening, so he's a little more patient this time around, placing soft kisses over Geddy's skin and nipping just enough to leave faint red marks.

Geddy rakes his fingers down Alex's back. "C'mon," he begs, shoving his hips forward in an attempt to spur Alex to thrust into him. "Fuck me. Please. I need it." His voice is rough and low with desire, and Alex's erection stiffens impossibly harder.

"I thought you wanted our sex to last longer." Alex is settled between Geddy's open legs, cock sheathed tight inside him while his hands roam over Geddy's body.

"There are exceptions." Geddy reaches down to jerk himself off, but Alex catches his wrist.

"Ged, it's my birthday, not yours."

Geddy whines and squirms, and Alex kisses the side of Geddy's knee in apology.

Alex explores Geddy like he's new, mouthing down the seductive line of his neck, tasting the beads of sweat in the hollow of his throat, bringing Geddy's arm to his mouth and kissing the spot where his bicep and forearm meet. Geddy shudders, and when Alex's thumbs brush over his nipples, he whimpers and bucks into Alex's hips.

The insistent shove feels good, and Alex groans, gripping a hand tighter around Geddy's hip to steel himself. He slides his hand underneath to clutch at Geddy's ass, squeezing tightly enough to leave fingerprints.

"I know you like it," Geddy purrs, pushing into Alex's touch. "Turn me over and fuck me. You can have it. I'm all yours."

Jesus.

Alex drops his head back, breathing deeply through his nose. "Fuck, you're such a tease."

"I'm not the one holding out."

Geddy's cock is leaking at the head, and Alex traces a finger along the highway of the bulging vein on the underside. Geddy twitches his hips, seeking a warm hand or a hard thrust. Alex offers the former, wrapping his fingers around Geddy's dick and teasing the slick head with his thumb.

Geddy bites down on a strained noise and rocks his hips. "God, Alex, please..."

Alex acquiesces with gentle pushes, his hand stroking Geddy slow and easy. Geddy shoves into Alex's thrusts, gasping out high-pitched praises until his back arches off the mattress and he comes over his belly and Alex's fist.

Watching Geddy come is usually the high point of Alex's sexual experiences, and as Geddy goes tight around him he can't help but break apart, any hope of endurance lost under the weight of Geddy's orgasm.

"Shit," Alex laughs, wringing out the rest of his climax with lazy thrusts. "I'm sorry. I'm a minuteman. It's my destiny." He chuckles and braces his hands on either side of Geddy's shoulders, gazing down at him.

Geddy reaches up and threads his fingers through Alex's sweat-damp hair. "I take it as a compliment. Like you're so turned on by me you can't hold it in."

"Sure, let's go with that." Alex settles on top of him, and he feels the slickness of Geddy's cum between them. It's sticky and dirty and he loves it. "I'm not a sexual disappointment. I'm just easily excitable with a hair-trigger. Totally not the same thing."

"You're not a disappointment. I like being with you."

"So I'm not a disappointment, and you're not a terrible person?"

"Don't try to be clever," Geddy jokes, faking a smack at the side of Alex's head. "Those are totally different things."

"Ged, I've made it my life's goal to make you see your own worth, so you should just make this easier on both of us and accept that you're awesome."

"No."

Alex putters a sigh through his lips. "Who told you you were terrible? I'll kick their ass."

"Only a sociopath walks away from a year-long affair thinking he's the hero."

"Get over it, Ged. Nancy seems like she has."

"Well, my kids still think I'm a piece of shit." Geddy's fingers curl in Alex's hair.

Alex turns his head so his cheek's lying flat on Geddy's chest. "Do you ever act like you're not? When we first met, you were all like 'they're not gonna respect me so I might as well set a bad example.' Maybe if you acted like someone who deserves respect, you'd get it. Fake it 'til you make it."

Alex can't see Geddy's expression, but he knows he's making that thoughtful pouty face right now.

"Have you talked to your kids about what happened?" Alex wonders. "They seem like they're old enough now to understand."

"It's pretty much the elephant in the room."

"Ugh, Jesus, Ged," Alex groans, as though Geddy's stubbornness physically pains him. "So they've only got Nancy's side of the story. Not talking with them about it comes off like you don't give a shit, like you did it 'cause you really are an asshole. And if you say 'well, maybe I really am,' I'm not having sex with you for a week."

Geddy huffs a quiet laugh. "I don't know if it's worth talking about now."

"It's never too late. Until it is. But it's not too late now. What's gonna happen when your kids visit next summer and see me hanging around? You want them thinking I'm the guy you had the affair with?"

"Oh shit," Geddy murmurs. "I didn't think of that."

"They probably won't like me anyway, but I don't wanna start off with that severe of a handicap." Alex glides his hand over Geddy's forearm. "But, y'know, if you talk with them about it, they'll probably appreciate that you were honest."

Geddy sighs and runs his fingers down Alex's spine. "I don't want them knowing how pathetic I am."

"One, you're not pathetic. Two, you opened up to me and I fell in love with you."

Geddy's hands still at Alex's words, like he'll be forever stunned that Alex loves him. "You really think this will work?"

"Bit by bit, yeah. If you don't do anything, you'll always be in the same place. What've you got to lose? They already hate you. Can't get worse than that, right?"

"Alright, but if things do get worse, I'm blaming you for everything."

"Deal." Alex rolls off of Geddy and lands in the empty space beside him. He gazes up at the ceiling.

"I don't think I ever thanked you."

"For what? The orgasms? No thanks necessary. Hearing you come is its own reward."

Geddy flicks Alex's arm with his index finger. "No, idiot. For staying here. I know exactly what would've happened to me if you had moved on."

"Someone else would have taken my place. You're sexy, funny, smart... It's hard not to fall in love after getting to know you."

"I didn't make it easy."

"You know me: I like things hard," Alex says, earning another playful swat from Geddy.

* * *

 _"Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go but rather learning to start over."_ ~ Nicole Sobon


End file.
